Kryptonite
by AbbyGreenEyes
Summary: When Alfred F. Jones's ridiculous attempts to seduce his northern brother finally succeed.  He expected a Superman/Lois Lane kind of situation. Boy was he surprised. Can/Us.
1. An Innocent Visit

**Kryptonite**

**Notes: I love my Americest geographically correct and I like my stories bittersweet so you can expect comedy, fluff, and heartbreak in equal measure. Rated M for lemons, language and incest (in so far as you can call what the countries do incest...).**

Matthew slumped down into his favorite living room chair and sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Finally,_ finally_ Alfred had left his Ottawa apartment and flown back home to D.C.

He didn't know if he was being paranoid or if his brother was becoming more persistent. Maybe his falling out of favor with the rest of the world save England and for some strange unknown reason _Japan _had finally gotten to his southern brother?

Sure , Alfred had always been over enthusiastic about everything including his relationship with Matthew and baseball...and god help him when the two were combined.

But this really had to stop it just really really had to stop.

Scenes from the past week flashed through his head:

_Matthew was in the kitchen making breakfast because everyone knew Alfred could cook about as well as England. Alfred had shuffled in groggy from actually waking up at a decent hour after a night of videogaming. Without so much as a good morning, he passed Matthew and flung open the cabinet door right next to the stove in search of cookies. "Ah! Maple!" Matthew groaned as the heavy oak cabinet door hit him in the back of the head. "Al, couldn't you wait until the pancakes were finished?" _

"_Huh? What?" Alfred looked over with a mouth full of cookies. Seeing Matthew rubbing the back of his now-possibly-bleeding head the southern nation had the nerve to giggle. "Ha ha! Sorry bro!" _

Matthew rubbed the back of his still tender head at the memory, but Alfred being his usual hazardous self was not the problem. No, dear god, that was not the problem. The _clinginess_ was the problem.

_It was not unusual for Alfred to insist on sharing Matthew's bed after subjecting himself to horror movies. Oh sure, Matthew tried to stop him. "but...but you HATE horror movies. They terrify you." _

_he would say while thinking 'please, please don't let him climb in bed with me tonight. He kicks in his sleep.' . However, his rational advice was usually met by nothing but obnoxious laughter as Alfred would reply "Lol ! What dude? Nothing terrifies a HERO!" _

_Still, hours later, after suffering through another round of shaking and screaming in his pitch black living room as the ghostly scenes flickered across the TV set, Matthew would excuse himself to bed and Alfred would put up a false front of bravado to retire to the guest room. _

_Of course he never stayed there. His record for staying alone in the guest room was something like 10 minutes. Inevitably he would sneak down the hall (afraid of alerting the ghosts to his presence) and pry open Matthew's door (how he got around the lock, Matthew would never know) and dislodge Kumajiro in order to crawl under the covers with Matthew. _

_Matthew's usual line of defense was to pretend he was asleep and hope that Alfred would just be quiet and follow his lead. No such luck. _

"_Mattie? Hey, hey, Matthew!" and if he didn't answer the incessant poking would start. A well placed finger between the ribs usually had him bolting upright in bed in no time. _

"_Matt~!" Alfred would sing-song "You're awake!" _

_Typically what happened next was Alfred rambling at him about some random topic (stopping at short intervals to shriek at the things that go bump in the night) until he forgot about the horror movies and went to sleep. _

_This had not happened last night. What happened last night had made Matthew long for the old days of trying to keep his eyes open under pain of poking while Alfred talked extensively about which videogame console controller had the best design. _

_It had begun like this __**poke poke**__ "Hey Mattie!" __**poke**__ "Bro!" followed shortly by Matthew rolling over to face his bright eyed twin brother. "What?" He whined fully expecting the inevitable rant to commence. Instead Alfred snuggled up to him, making the northern nation blink in confusion. _

"_Hold me." Alfred crooned using the voice he used on Japan whenever he wanted the island nation to swallow his pride and eat florescent cake. _

"_Um, excuse me, what?" Matthew choked out in a hoarse whisper. _

"_It's dark." Alfred whined twining his muscular arms around Matthew's waist. Biting back the urge to totally freak out at the unexpected and frankly terrifying contact Matthew groped desperately in the dark for the chain to light the lamp on his bedside table. _

_Light flooded their little corner of the room. "There." Matthew sighed. "Now you have a nightlight. So, let me go please?" _

_Alfred made a little annoyed noise in his throat and Matthew's eyes widened in horror due to the fact that he could tell Alfred was pouting even though his face was buried in Matthew's chest by the feeling of his bottom lip gutting out against Matthew's chest separated only by his thin flannel night shirt. _

"_Why?" he whimpered "Don't you like me?" _

_'Ack!' Matthew thought 'He's either on one of his rare bouts of low self-esteem or he's trying to manipulate me for something.' Neither scenario was good. Matthew always felt a little guilty when Alfred was legitimately downhearted, usually because his passive-agressive snarks or rants about America's flaws were the cause of it. _

"_Of course I like you." Matthew kept the panic out of his voice. "On your side of the bed." _

_Alfred tilted his face upward and Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. 'I will not look...I will not look...'_

_but the temptation was too great and one eye rebelled and fluttered open. There it was, the infamous puppy dog face. Complete with watery blue eyes, pink flushed cheeks and trembling lower lip. _

_'No,' Matthew thought 'Don't give in man, you may be the only country on earth who is immune to his bullshit! Well besides Cuba, and Russia and...well the point was don't give in!' _

_In the end , even his inner chorus of the Guess Who's "American Woman" didn't do the trick. _

_That was an awkward thing to think of in reference to one's brother anyway..._

_It was late, he was tired, Alfred was (he begrudgingly had to admit) quite warm and comfortable and Matthew didn't want to give his twin and excuse to squeeze him with his unpredictable super strength. _

"_Fine!" He groaned "Fine! But just this one time!" _

_Grinning victoriously Alfred had snuggled into the crook of his neck. _

_Matthew prayed no one ever found out. _

It turned that as far as Alfred was concerned "Just this one time!" meant "Please press your body uncomfortably close to mine every night so I can wake up to your charming beef scented morning breath." and then there had been that time they started arguing about history...

"_Dude, what have I ever done to make you suspicious of me?" Alfred was pouting, arms crossed, sitting on Matthew's kitchen counter. _

"_Oh I don't know..." Matthew grumbled slamming the dishwasher a little harder than he'd meant. "You did INVADE ME that one time." _

_Alfred looked genuinely surprised. "What? When?" _

"_1812!" Matthew flailed his arms "What the hell, eh?" _

"_1812?" Alfred tapped his temple, face screwed up in concentration "oh yeah! That's that time you and England burnt down my White House house, right? Dick move you guys." _

"_You torched York!" Matthew gasped " You invaded me. Oh my god!" _

"_Ha. ha. Really?" Alfred swung his legs and grinned at Matthew's horrified expression. "I always wondered why you burnt the White House. Guess I forgot about all that other stuff. I'm totally sure I had a good reason for it at the time. Uh, whatever it was."_

_He'd slung and arm around Matthew's shoulder "Water under the bridge, right bro?" _

"_Bastard..." Matthew mumbled under his breath. _

Of course that was nothing compared to the day that Alfred had actually picked up a news paper for once in his life and found a letter to the editor about Canadian fears of Americanization.

"_Mattie~ what?" He'd whined "I mean come on! Sure I think every country on earth has a god given right to McDonald's but still..."_

_The way he was swinging that newspaper around must have triggered some chainsaw-induced stress memories and Mattie felt himself slipping into his comfortable, nervous sphere of invisibility. _

"_Al...Al...calm down." Matthew scooped up Kumajiro and clutched the bear defensively. _

_Alfred continued to rant. "Okay, I KNOW I stamped that American flag on your forehead that one time but really that was for your own good! If you didn't have such a ridiculous, girly, flag it wouldn't have been a problem..." _

_'Did he just call my flag girly?' Matthew thought in annoyance but found it impossible to get a word in. _

_Finally the storm blew over and Alfred seemed to calm down. He took Matthew by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "This cannot stand! I am going to do something to prove to you I am not trying to Americanize you!" As Alfred stormed out of the apartment Matthew caught the whisper "...anymore than everyone else." _

_Matthew should have felt a sense of dread. He should have wondered what the hell his twin was up to on the streets of Ottawa, but instead he was just glad to have a moment alone to make tea and calm his nerves. _

_What seemed like hours later Alfred finally returned carrying a single, small, bag with him. Matt couldn't make out the name of the store as Alfred made straight for the guest bedroom. _

"_What did you buy?" Matthew called after him but his only reply was "Nothing! Order Pizza! I'm starving!" _

_Now wary of whatever Alfred had bought Matthew made his way to the kitchen phone and dialed up his favorite delivery service. What? Just because he COULD cook , unlike his brother , didn't mean he wanted to all the time. _

_As he ordered an obscene number of large pizzas for two people (feeding Alfred wasn't cheap) Matthew had no idea the kind of painful inner struggle his brother was suffering in the guest room. _

_He would soon be wishing Alfred had lost that inner struggle. As he hung up the phone and walked into the living room he heard Alfred calling from the hallway. _

"_Oh Canada~?" and knew that this, whatever it was, could not be good. _

_Swallowing the lump in his throat Matthew replied "Um, yes?" _

_and then there he was reclining against the doorframe where the hallway met the living room running a hand up and down over his completely, stupidly, unfairly muscular chest and wearing..._

"_Pants!" Matthew shrieked "Oh my god, put on your pants!"_

"_What?" Alfred asked straightening up and snapping the elastic waistband of his Canadian flag themed tighty whities. "I'll have you know this is a supreme gesture of goodwill. I think your sissy flag is chaffing my old glory if you know what I mean." _

_Matthew buried his face in his hands. "Please, Alfred, please. Get my flag off your vital regions and PUT ON SOME PANTS." _

"_Why?" Alfred grinned "Afraid I look better in them than you would?"_

_Alfred was now much too close for comfort and Matthew sprinted backwards towards the kitchen before Alfred could snake an arm around him. _

"_Do you know how long it took me to find a pair of flag-themed briefs in this city?" Alfred commenced to complain "Where is your Canadian pride?" _

_Alfred cornered Matthew by the open kitchen's bar and succeeded in getting the jump on the northern nation. "Don't hug me when you don't have pants on! Don't hug me when you don't have pants on!" _

_Matthew was practically crying. _

"_Okay..." Alfred teased "If you really want me to get dressed I did pass a costume shop with a fake Mountie uniform."_

"NO!"

Matthew shook himself from the terrifying memories. Alfred wasn't here anymore. No more nervously looking around every corner to make sure his brother's clumsiness didn't endanger his life, No more getting kneed in the back while he was trying to sleep (Sleeping with an Elephant? Trudeau had no idea. It was more like sleeping with an armored tank.) , No more whiny demands for Pancakes. It was just him and his oddly forgetful Polar bear. Mattie sighed in relief and tried not to think about the world meeting that was just two weeks away.


	2. America's Vivid Imagination

Alfed F. Jones had just stepped out of the shower and was staring into his obscenely large bathroom mirror. A fluffy white monogrammed towel was wrapped around his waist. On the counter his clothes for the day were laid out. His usual uniform and very brightly colored American flag boxers. He was afraid those Canadian flag briefs had given Florida a rash and the only ointment was patriotic underwear.

What was Matthew's problem anyway? He'd strapped his flag on his junk and basically humped his leg.

How did that NOT work? Where was his brother's sense of honor, of duty? If Matthew had showed up at Alfred's apartment in a pair of fetchingly tight briefs sporting the stars and stripes Alfred would have considered it an insult to his country not to take him up on the offer.

Alfred allowed himself a rare frown and tousled his hair.

Amber waves of grain? Check.

He grinned, revealing perfectly white teeth.

Hollywood smile? You know it baby.

Big baby blues still looking like beautiful for spacious skies? Yep.

He loosened the towel and glanced down. Well his fruited plain was in top condition.

He pinched his stomach.

Obesity epidemic still being held at bay by superhuman metabolism? Uh-huh.

Thus assured that he was in fact still America the beautiful, Alfred dissolved into a pout as he got dressed for the day.

Though he didn't like to think about it, Alfred didn't have much personal experience when it came to relationships.

Sure, He'd slept with France in his youth during the revolution but he tried not to think about that too much. It made him feel a little sick and lucky not to have caught some kind of disease. They mostly fucked and bitched about England anyway. Alfred suspected France's hatred was a little less than sincere. Of course, as it had turned out, so was his, but that was a long time ago.

Alfred didn't let his lack of experience with romantic relationships keep him down. He'd seen his movies, he knew he was a natural romantic. He shouldn't let his lack of success at Matthew's bother him. He hadn't really started trying yet. That had only been the flirtatious prelude. When Alfred really put some work into it then things were bound to fall into place.

Alfred knew it took only two things to win someone over. 1) Persistence 2) A talent for the grandiose.

He had these both in excess. Wooing Matthew would be a cake walk.

Sure, there were occasionally movies where the girl (because Matthew was obviously the girl) would get snippy and insist that giant bouquets of flowers and flashy cars (or whatever the movie's hero was doing to show his affection) wouldn't work on her. Alfred groaned. He could so see Matthew doing that. If for no other reason than his brother liked to be difficult. He_ enjoyed _tormenting Alfred. It was the only explanation. He could see it now...He'd go out of his way to do something really sweet like paying Molson's (because Matthew drank that right? It was the only Canadian beer Alfred could name so he figured he must be right) to build the world's biggest can of beer and drape a big banner of himself naked on it with the words "I love you!" and Matthew would probably just yell at him. The heartless bastard. Couldn't he see what a sacrifice this would be for him? Didn't he know how pissed off the Budweiser people would be if he paid to have Molson's break a world record?

No problem. Alfred had a back up plan in the likely case that Matthew would pretend not to be affected by his romantic prowess.

It always happened the same way in the movies. The girl would go off on the guy with a "You're horribly shallow and you can't buy my love!" rant and the guy would get all depressed but later, in a moment of seeming fate, his chance would come to do something heartfelt to show her that he really did care. Often by decking some dude that was bothering her.

Alfred grinned. It wasn't like he needed a reason to pick a fight with Cuba.

Yeah, he'd seen that chubby cigar smoking creeper hanging around his brother and he didn't like it, no sir, not at all!

Alfred mimed the scene, slinging his arm around an imaginary Matthew and practicing his best tough guy face in the mirror.

"Is this guy bothering you, Mattie?" He asked raising an eyebrow at the imaginary Cuba in front of them. A totally non-verbal 'Come at me, bro!' .

"You know," he said turning to waggle his eyebrows at the imaginary Matthew "I have an absolutely amazing military. Say the word sugar and I'll knock him off the map!"

_'Oh yeah,' _ Alfred thought _'That would so work.' _

And on the off chance that it didn't, the alternative plans were limitless.

Alfred had a boombox, a fast car and a Letterman jacket. Nothing could go wrong.

Yes, he actually still had a boombox. It was in his storage room somewhere put away in case on some rainy day he needed to park his car outside someone's house and hold it over his head.

He pulled on his signature bomber jacket and made his way to the kitchen for coffee and cereal.

Not that he didn't love eating marshmallows in milk for breakfast everyday but he was looking forward to what breakfast would be like once he'd won Matthew over.

He could see it now:

_Opening groggy eyes as the sent of butter and maple assaulted his nose. The morning sunlight peaking in through his windows would bathe the sight before him in a soft, heavenly glow. _

_It would glitter on Matthew's golden curls bouncing sparkles all around him and off the syrup dripping from the giant stack of pancakes he held on a tray in front of him. _

_It would take Alfred a minute to fully wake up and realize his twin had straddled him in bed. _

_He'd scoot back and sit the tray on Alfred's lap as he sat up. _

"_Good Morning Alfie," He'd grin. "Look I made you mickey mouse pancakes with chocolate chips. I was going to make you sausage and bacon but then I thought why not have hamburgers for breakfast too?" and then Matthew would giggle and it would melt Alfred's heart and he would let him feed him pancakes and French fries and burger after which they would have sex until noon. _

Putting his cereal bowl away in the dishwasher Alfred decided today was a good day to blow off work and go shopping. If his boss complained he could always just explain that project Seduce Canada had to come first. After all, once he was better sexed and better fed he was likely to be way more productive.

The world meeting was coming up soon and Alfred knew he didn't have long to get a plan together.

Miles away across the border, Matthew shivered with a strong sense of foreboding and wondered why.


	3. Tasty Burger Babies

Matthew straightened his tie in the hallway mirror before tucking Kumajiro under one arm and picking up his briefcase. He could already hear raised voices from inside the meeting room.

He didn't mind coming in late.

No one ever noticed and nothing got done in the first 10 minutes anyway.

He softly opened the door expecting to find the nearest empty seat and spend the next few hours as a spectator to madness.

No such luck.

"CANADA~!" A familiar voice yelled in what Matthew assumed was a poor attempt at formality in front of the others. America was not really capable of formality. "Dude, what took you so long? I saved you a seat!"

When Matthew finally opened his eyes, which had squeezed shut at his brother's unexpected shriek, he wanted to melt into the floor.

Yes, Alfred had saved him a seat. A seat he had thoughtfully rigged with red and white flashing Christmas lights, tacky plastic maple leaves, and miniature hockey sticks.

On autopilot, unsure of what else to do, Matthew moved toward the seat.

Whispers surrounded him as he crossed the room.

"Wait...who's that? I feel like I'm supposed to know..."

"I think he's called Can-Can or something...the one that hangs out with France?"

Matthew felt a vein start to throb in his head. Alfred had only just shouted his name at the top of his lungs and Can-Can was the best they could come up with?

Alfred clapped him on the back and gave him his usual grin. To Matthew's relief, Germany started yelling about "useless interruptions!" before Alfred could start chatting him up about the chair that he was sure to think was a masterpiece of human creativity.

If Matthew thought that he could slip off into blissful invisibility however he was very mistaken.

Two things seemed to happen simultaneously to make Matthew blush and his stomach churn.

His brother wasn't paying attention to the meeting, that was no surprise, but what he was paying attention to was Matthew's foot.

He decided to start his rather vigorous game of footsie about the same time that France leaned across the table with a murmured _"ohnhonhon." _to whisper in Matthew's ear.

"Oh là là, mon cher Matthieu...Je pense que États-Unis a le béguin pour toi!"

A crush...Francis thought Alfred might have a crush on him?

_No,_ Matthew thought sarcastically, _what gave it away?_

"Papa~!" he nevertheless whined in protest "ne dis pas cela!" _don't say that!_ Fortunately if Alfred remembered any of the French he'd learned long ago he was to scatterbrained to notice or care what was going on.

France only chuckled and watched Matthew's face in amusement as if knowing how his foot was being molested under the table.

He sighed, trying to sink back into his chair, but was thwarted by a miniature hockey stick poking into his ear. Why did Alfred think this was a good idea, again?

When he finally managed to tune out the meeting he was too soon jarred from his pleasant daydreams by Alfred's hand on his shoulder.

"Lunch break!" he chirped happily. "I made you something special!"

Matthew felt his heart sinking. His Alfred's food was almost as bad as England's.

And it was just as likely to have Christmas lights as his chair.

Matthew tentatively took the superman lunchbox from Alfred's hands and cracked open the lid.

He almost heaved a sigh of relief, a hamburger! Even if it wasn't his favorite food at least that was something Alfred could do right. He'd been afraid to find some kind of neon pink poutine inside.

Wait... he stopped as he picked up the burger. Was it...sticky? Why was it...? Maple Syrup!

"The Maple Burger." Alfred leaned over and whispered in Matthew's ear sounding like a cross between a Mcdonald's commercial and a porn star. "because if we had children they'd be delicious."

Matt dropped the burger back into the lunch box as if it had burned him. '_Calm down, you're not a girl, you're not even human...there's no way you could ever possibly have children and if you did there's no way that Alfred would actually EAT them. Would he?'_

"Aaw." Alfred looked at the burger, hurt. "You're not even going to try it? It has maple smoked bacon, a charcoal flame broiled burger patty, caramelized onions, crispy lettuce, smoked cheddar cheese and a generous coating of maple syrup! I promise it's real maple syrup! I made it just for _you~! _I even called the people at Mcdonald's and they're going to start selling them next month. They're calling it the McMattie!"

"That's...That's..." He glanced from Alfred's watery blue eyes to the burger and back again. _'kind of sweet in a disgusting way...' _"really not necessary." He concluded.

When his puppy dog eyes did not work at the speed his tiny attention span required, Alfred moved on to his second tactic. He picked up the burger and held it to his ear. "What's that McMattie?" He looked at it with a frown. "No! Don't say that McMattie! How could he not want to eat you? I even shelled out for the expensive maple syrup because I know what a total snob he is! And your bacon, it's like a ¼ of an inch thick!"

Matthew raised an eyebrow. Only Alfred would think nothing of calling him a Maple Snob in the midst of pitching woo.

In the meantime Alfred had moved on to petting the McMattie comfortingly and reassuring it that yes, it's lettuce was still just as crispy and awesome as ever.

"Fine!" He snapped, wrenching the burger from Alfred's hands. He steeled his stomach and took a bite.

It wasn't as revolting as he thought it would be. It certainly wouldn't be the worst monthly special in the history of Mcdonald's though he was unlikely to find himself in line. He supposed if breakfast sausage and syrup could work then a burger wasn't that far off. "It's alright." He told Alfred honestly.

It might not have merited the smug look of triumph Alfred was now sporting, but it wasn't half bad.

"Victory..." his southern twin whispered "for burgers everywhere!"

Then turning to Matthew he smiled "Good! Because the hockey stick shaped french fries I tried to make you ended up mangled at the bottom of my deep fryer."

Matthew tried to pretend Alfred was joking about having a deep fryer in his personal kitchen, but sadly, he knew he was not.

So far the day hadn't been as awful as he'd expected. Hopefully there would be nothing worse waiting for him after lunch, but knowing it would be Alfred's turn to speak did not reassure him.


	4. Balloonacy

**A/N: Sorry for the wait guys. Thanks for the Reviews & Alerts.**

**Chapter 4: Balloonacy**

When it came time for Alfred to step up to the podium Matthew forcibly ignored the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Alfred was just going to come up with some new crazy scheme to biologically engineer a race of superheros to solve the planet's ills. That's all. He'd already humiliated him enough with his flashing Canada chair and that disgusting hamburger. It was finished, it had to be.

Of course, It wasn't.

Alfred pushed Texas up on his nose and cleared his throat. Grinning like an idiot he addressed the room. "My fellow nation dudes and" He nodded in the direction of Hungary and Lichtenstein "nation lady-dudes, today I have an important announcement to make."

His face took on an uncharacteristic seriousness which immediately caught the attention of every country in the room. Matthew watched as their faces turned from concern to complete confusion as Alfred continued.

"I know this may break more than a few hearts, for which I am totally sorry," He nodded his head solemnly, hands folded in front of him. "but my awesome ass is off the metaphorical romantic table."

"What the bloody fucking hell are you on about?" England interrupted. "My God!"

"Ohonhon! be quiet Rosbif." France snuck a hand into the Englishman's hair making him spit out his tea. "This is the most interesting thing États-Unis has done in 300 years."

Unconcerned, Alfred went on. Matthew felt as if he was going to throw up. The tension in combination with the "McMattie" resting unhappily in his stomach was too much.

"That's right!" Alfred declared with a flourish, drawing a remote from his inner jacket pocket and holding it high. "I'M IN LOVE WITH CANADA!"

And that is when, in the grand tradition of _Wheel of Fortune_ to _Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?, _

the balloons dropped. Hundreds, upon hundreds of heart shaped balloons and the boardroom descended into chaos.

Germany stood up and began swearing in his native tongue trying to wade his way to throttle America through the thick sea of red and pink. Russia had begun to kolkolkol, Italy squealed happily, Japan and Hungary shared a pointed glance and started snapping pictures, France let out a cry of "Sacré Balloons!", but it was England's reaction that finally caused Canada's cool composure to fall to a firey death.

"You're in love with WHO you wanker?" He demanded swatting balloons away angrily.

"You...you...English Bastard!" It came out first as a squeak and developed into a full bodied yell "It's C-c-canada!" He stuttered, incensed. He'd put up with this crap for too long ."Canada! The good colony, the one that didn't gain independence through violent rebellion? I'm a member of the Commonwealth, you hoser!"

England had the decency to look ashamed and laughed nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ah ha ha...oh right. Canada. Of course, sorry about that chap!"

Alfred was laughing obnoxiously and pointing at England's blushing face.

"And YOU..." Matthew rounded on him, seething. "what the hell, eh? What is this?"

He waved wildly gesturing to all the balloons. "What do you think you are? A new car? Have you never heard of asking a guy out to dinner? No, of course you haven't because asking someone out to dinner would be too normal for you wouldn't it? Too sane? No, no, no asking me out to dinner wouldn't possibly work for you because it wouldn't draw enough attention to yourself would it? You love me? Don't make me laugh! You only love yourself!"

He stormed out into the hallway with Alfred right behind him.

"Hey Mattie! Wait up! You don't mean that do you, bro?" He demanded grabbing the sleeve of Matthew's suit.

"I do! Why do you have to be such a creep, Alfred? This isn't one of your corny movies! Until you grow up you can just leave me alone." He pulled away sharply. "And for fuck's sake don't show up outside my window with your goddamn boombox!"

As Matthew marched down the hall, Alfred wondered how he knew exactly what he was planning.

He sniffled and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Matthew could be such a dick sometimes.

All he did try to show him how special he was with a room full of balloons, a patriotic chair and a tasty hamburger. That would have definitely worked on _him_.

_Wait...wait..._ Alfred's head started to ache as something clicked into place. _Wait...that would've worked on me, but Mattie isn't like me...is he?_

Alfred rubbed his head. Why was he starting to get a head ache? There was a nagging voice inside him accusing him of heresy but he stubbornly continued his train of thought.

No, Matthew wasn't like him. Sure, they shared a lot of common ground like any brothers would, but they were also markedly different. On rainy days when Alfred went out to play in the mud Matthew stayed in to read by the window. Matthew did crazy things like cooking when there were perfectly good delivery services available. Where Alfred settled things swiftly and forcefully and dealt with the consequences later, Matthew handled things calmly and gradually.

So maybe, just maybe, he needed to adjust his strategy to suit Matthew's personality.

Of course that didn't mean that American movie strategies were wrong. God no, they weren't wrong! He'd just been using the wrong ones. Obviously Matthew was more of a yard full of daffodils kind of guy than a room full of balloons and a grand public spectacle.

Yeah, Matthew was definitely more of the whimsical Big Fish kind of guy...right?

He just needed to be more romantic and thoughtful, then Mattie would come around!

Of course, He'd thought nothing could be more perfect for Matthew than the Canada chair so obviously he needed to put a little more thought into his next attempt.

Maybe things would've gone better if he'd worked harder to make those hockey stick fries...

He refused to be deterred by Matthew's outburst. So maybe he wouldn't show up outside his apartment with his boombox, not that he didn't look like a total sex bomb in his Letterman jacket, but he'd give Matthew some time to cool off.

It looked like this whole seduction thing was going to be more difficult than he'd thought, but nothing was too difficult for the good old U.S of A! Alfred put on a cheerful smile, chasing away the doubts that today's failure had left in him.

He refused to give up. He'd get those mickey mouse pancakes even if it took him the next 100 years.


	5. Alfred Does The Creep

**A/N: In this chapter I reference the Lonely Island's song The Creep. If you've somehow not been introduced to this masterful triumph of human creativity, go to YouTube now!**

**Also, I'm going to try to lengthen the chapters a bit from now on.**

**Chapter 5: Alfred does The Creep**

Back in front of his beloved bathroom mirror Alfred kept hearing Matthew's words in his head.

_Why are you such a creep? This isn't one of your corny movies!_

Al pinched his jaw and turned his head side to side to get a good look at each profile in the mirror.

He wasn't a creep! He was way too good looking to be a creep. Everyone knew the American maxim that if you're attractive enough you can get away with anything. Thus, his behavior was totally acceptable. Besides, his movies weren't corny so obviously Mattie had no idea what he was talking about.

So he was a little persistent...so what? It wasn't like he was one of those guys with that flat hair and weaselly mustache and pants pulled up to their nipples.

He may have been adept at hiding behind bushes with binoculars but he'd never gone up a tree to check out a fly PYT. All though, come to think of it, there was a convenient fire escape outside Matthew's bedroom window...

And the thought of hiding out in the locker room after one of Matthew's hockey games had Alfred absentmindedly rubbing his chest and staring off into space distractedly. Sometimes Mattie got so sweaty and disheveled after those games and it was one of the few circumstances where he was aggressive about anything...Alfred made a happy little strangled noise in his throat.

Before the drool could make it's way to the fur lining of his jacket, Alfred forced himself to snap out of his obscene daydream. NO. There was no way he was doing that. It was too weird.

Right? Right. It was definitely NOT okay to spy on Matthew changing after hockey. Not...not...not...okay. He began to twitch and fidget with the buttons of his shirt.

_Patience young padawan, _he thought to himself _patience and one day you'll have all the pancakes and post-hockey sex you want. But that probably won't happen if Mattie catches you hiding in his locker. _

_Smelling his... _Alfred's eyes closed happily at the thought _smelling his jersey..._

His eyes snapped open and he shook his head. Repeating as a mantra in his head _'I am not weird . I'm the Hero. There is nothing wrong with me...' _

This probably happened to all young countries in love. Alfred wouldn't be surprised if Hungary had gone through a phase of pilfering Austria's cravats, or whatever the hell, to smell them. He knew for a fact that France had a collection of England's undergarments dating back to the 17th century at least.

If France could have over 3 centuries of England's underwear then ONE hockey jersey couldn't be such a crime could it?

_No, no, no I am not comparing myself to Hungary and FRANCE!_

In desperate need of distracting himself, Alfred pulled up his pants, attempted unsuccessfully to flatten Nantucket, and lifted his arms into a t-rex position. He jerked from the left to the right, popping his knees and punctuating his movements with a periodic gasp.

Just as he was really getting into it with the shoulder bounce and all, he was interrupted by a swearing alien.

"What the fuck are you doing, Asshole?"

All Alfred could do was laugh as Tony stood in the door way taking a sip of his cola, looking at him with quizzical green eyes.

"Ha ha ha! Nothing, dude!"

If Tony had had eyebrows, he would've raised them.

"In love with Polar Bear Man," He said shaking his little grey head. "So sad. Poor bastard. Never going to happen."

"What the hell man?" Alfred crossed his arms "You're supposed to be my friend!"

Tony shrugged. "Truth hurts. Wino is at the door."

"What?" Alfred scratched his head. "There's a wino at the door?"

"Limey hates him. He's good by me." Tony replied tossing his empty soda cup in the waste basket.

_Oh! France! _

Alfred made his way to his front door, wondering what Francis would come all the way to visit him for.

The minute he opened the door Francis came in smelling of rose cologne and stale wine. He enveloped Alfred in a too close for comfort embrace. "Ah, États-Unis, my young friend!"

Alfred put his palms against the chest of his oldest ally and gently pushed him away. "Dude, personal space! Didn't you get the memo? I'm getting my continent on. It's all about North America now."

"Ohonhon~!" Francis snuck a stealthy arm back around Alfred's waist. "I did not realize it was such a party. Well I am obviously invited to zee orgy. Clipperton Island, Guadaloupe, Saint Barthélemy,

Saint Martin, these are all mine, yes?"

"What are you talking about Francis?" Alfred said carefully squirming away.

Francis raised a carefully groomed eyebrow and sighed. "États-Unis there are 23 countries which make up zee North American continent. I thought you would at least remember Méxique as she is part of your NAFTA, non?"

"Mexico! Where? Is she raiding my fridge again, goddammit?" Alfred demanded looking around paranoid. "Those are my popsicles!"

Francis tapped his foot and examined his nails waiting for Alfred to calm down.

"Anyway," Alfred continued waving a hand dismissively "That's all Central, South, whatever. Me and Mattie are the real North America."

"Perhaps, but Alfred, you and Matthieu together do not create a continent." Francis pat his head patronizingly.

Alfred only snorted. "Well I say we do. So, screw Geographers or whoever. What did you come here for anyway Francey Pants?"

"Oh mon cher," Francis reclined on Alfred's sofa "I could not stand to watch your continued failure to win the affections of my Matthieu. So, I have come to offer you my assistance!" He spread his hands and nodded his head as if it were the most gracious gesture in the world.

"I'm doing just fine thanks." Alfred replied in a huff. Francis giggled.

"Dear Alfred, you approach love with all the finesse of a rabid toddler! You are almost as bad as England. Though at least you try! zhat British punk is so repressed his idea of affection is a rock hard scone to zee 'ead!" France rubbed the back of his head and Alfred knew he was speaking from personal experience. "Honestly, he is not cooking he is crafting weapons of mass destruction."

Francis moved the hand that was rubbing the back of his head to clasp one of Alfred's hands.

"Be reasonable. You need my help. You cannot honestly think that a syrup covered hamburger is the way to a man like Matthieu's heart?" He winked "And let us not forget you know from experience how effective my methods are."

Alfred blushed and pulled his hand away. "That was a long time ago, Francis."

"Oui," Francis sighed. "A long time ago. Long before Freedom Fries. Long before you weren't there for me after my revolution when I was there for yours."

"Hey," Alfred slumped down next to him on the couch. "You know the situation was complicated. And about the Fries...I'm sorry about that bro but citizens will be citizens." _Though he did think it was a pretty sweet patriotic name, he didn't mention that to France._ "You know I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for you." He placed a hand on Francis's shoulder.

Francis looked at him for a long moment with eyebrows furrowed, as if trying to decide whether that last statement was a compliment or an insult. In the end, he knew Alfred meant it positively. And he supposed he was proud of his hand in helping the young country gain his independence and rise to prominence even if he had veered from the course Francis would have preferred on more than one occasion.

He wiped a tear from his eye and stood up abruptly. "Stop it, États-Unis, you are going to make me cry! Now, shall we get started?"

Alfred frowned. "That depends on what you have in mind."

Later in Alfred's kitchen, Francis was losing his patience.

"Non, non, non!" Francis chided pulling on his perfectly coiffed blond locks. "You are burning zee apples, you impossible boy!"

The heat in Alfred's kitchen was unbearable. The oven had been on for over six hours now as Francis tried in vain to teach Alfred how to cook a romantic meal.

By this point Francis was starting to dip into the Calvados they were using for the French apple tarts. Or for what would have been the French apple tarts if something didn't keep going wrong.

"Screw this!" Alfred cried dumping the burnt apples into the garbage can with the rest of their fallen bretheren. He switched off the stove and the oven and took the bottle of Calvados from Francis.

"Okay, okay" Francis threw up his hands. "So you cannot cook? Zhat is fine. It would only complicate things in your future relationship if you could. It is never good to have two chefs in zee kitchen."

He flipped his hair over his shoulder. "I have, of course, a plan B."

"Mmm?" Alfred asked, wiping his mouth and shivering from the strong apple liquor.

"We will just have to find your admirable qualities and play them up. Along with a makeover of course. You inherited England's awful hair!"

Alfred backed away from Francis's prying hands that were reaching out to sample the texture of his hair.

"Stay away from my hair!"

"Tsk!" Francis pouted "Don't you think Matthieu deserves better than someone who looks like their hair is cut by a lawnmower?"

Alfred twiddled Nantucket self-consciously. "Mattie has never complained about my hair."

and he'd complained about just about everything else, so Alfred was pretty sure he'd know if his hair was on Matthew's "Reasons not to date Alfred list"

Damn! If only he could get a hold of that list it would solve all his problems!

Curse his short attention span!

"Of course not, he is too polite."

Alfred frowned. "No. I draw the line at my hair." He was positive Francis just wanted to fuck with him.

"Fine, fine!" Francis had a seat at the kitchen table and crossed his legs looking at Alfred expectantly. "So, what would you say are your best qualities? What are you good at?"

"Well," Alfred grinned "I'm good at sports, inventing awesome military equipment, video games, and saving people. You know, your typical hero activities."

"Hmmm," Francis tapped his chin "I am not sure that physical prowess is that important to Matthieu. On the other hand he does enjoy his outdoor activities...his fishing, his camping, his rock climbing, his water rafting, and of course for sports his hockey...These are some things you have in common, yes?"

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, totally, we usually go camping together at least twice a year. It's the best!"

"But you cannot capitalize on this now because you have shot yourself in zee foot, as you say. Matthieu would not allow himself to share a tent with you after your display this morning. He is like a rabbit and you have startled him."

Alfred blushed. The day really hadn't gone the way he'd intended.

He'd thought the chair would show him he cared about him being visible, about his unique identity. He'd hoped the McMattie would show him how happy he was to incorporate the things Matthew loved into the things he held most dear (that being Mcdonald's), to show him it was a two way street.

As for the whole balloons and the boardroom thing, he'd thought it would make Matthew realize how serious he was if he declared it to the whole world.

But somehow the messages just hadn't gotten across and if he couldn't communicate with his own twin brother maybe this really was hopeless...?

No! He shook his head and took another swig of Calvados. Alfred refused to stay sad for more than 2 minutes. He refused to be daunted. There was nothing he couldn't do! He was the hero! And he already had another plan in the works. Whatever Francis came up with would just be icing on the romantic cake that was Alfred's master plan.

"Well I'm going to fix that! I already put in an order for 500 sugar maple trees..."

Because screw daffodils! He'd plant him a forest!

"Non, non! Subtlety, it is about subtlety! You must make him want you and not know what has brought on the sudden change!"

That entire statement felt wrong to Alfred. "That...that sounds an awful lot like manipulation to me. 'Sides what's the point of putting on an act? Then he falls in love with an act, not in love with me and how does that work for me exactly? I'm not a smoke n' mirrors kind of fella."

"Alfred..." Francis tapped his fingers in growing annoyance "There is a difference between manipulation and putting on a nice suit and coy smile. I am trying to teach you the fine art of seduction. You are going to have to loosen your grip on the rustic security blanket you call blunt honesty. I will never understand why you so worship at the altar of artlessness!"

Francis stood up. "It's late. I should be getting back to my hotel. Don't drink too much of that because I will be by bright and early to take you shopping. If you are going to win Matthieu's heart you are going to have to look the part!"

And with a wink he was gone, leaving Alfred to tie up the trash, pop open a can of coke and lose himself in late night television.


	6. Lakes Of Whiskey And Neglect

**A/N: Thank you guys for all the reviews, faves and alerts. Our boys have a long road ahead of them and I appreciate you tagging along! This is my first Hetalia fanfic so I really hope everyone is satisfactorily in character. Especially now that we're getting deeper into the characters thoughts.**

**I'll do my best but if you think someone is OOC, let me know, because I do care.**

**Also, about this chapter, I did warn you guys this wouldn't just be humor... **

**Thanks to my sis, Ratsister, for helping me come up with a chapter title!**

**Chapter 6: Lakes of Whiskey and Neglect**

Matthew chopped the potatoes for his stew a little more aggressively than necessary. He was still fuming about the stunt Alfred had pulled at the meeting.

His idiot brother caused him enough trouble without humiliating him publicly.

Alfred had been particularly bad this decade. And now he thought he was in love with him? Great.

The last thing Matthew needed was to be an accessory to one of his brother's overly publicized little dramas.

He dumped the potatoes into the stew and covered it, leaving it to cook. He took a seat at his kitchen table and stared out the window thinking about what it meant to be a country and how his brother hadn't always been the way he was now.

The whole love thing aside, Matthew was worried about his brother. Worried and annoyed.

Alfred never learned anything except the hard way. Stubbornness was one of Alfred's constant attributes and Matthew had seen it work to his benefit and his detriment over the years. His stubbornness was sometimes his strength and sometimes his stupidity. It was this stubbornness that gave his brother his fortitude in hard times but it was also what made him slow to change and kept him stuck in his ways regardless of whether it was good for him, or even, in many cases, the world. It was that stubbornness that often shut out the voices of others and kept Alfred acting staunchly on his own. Even when the voices, like Matthew's, came from those with Alfred's interests at heart.

It made him angry the way Alfred rarely listened to him. He still took it personally, even though Alfred didn't listen to anyone. Because he had a right to be listened to more than anyone else. He was intrinsically tied to Alfred. He was his twin, they were crafted from the same land, and both sharing British and French influence, from the same people. And as much as he tried to distance himself, he still couldn't help but be affected by his brash brother's decisions.

_'He won't acknowledge me when it counts,'_ Matthew thought angrily _'but he still expects me to play along with his stupid games? Not fucking likely.'_

Alfred could be kind, innovative, creative, industrious and friendly but _god _could he be thoughtless, self-involved, cocky and arrogant.

Matthew had given up on encouraging Alfred to look for answers beyond his own borders. He'd given up on trying to tell him that he ought to take a look at the rest of the world and consider how they did things.

He knew Alfred wouldn't listen. He never listened and he always had to fall hard before he'd change.

It had taken the great depression before Alfred had seriously considered social security. Every major change had to be a knock-down, drag-out fight with Alfred. Gradually arguing for independence wouldn't work for him. Alfred was just like that.

Part of Matthew was callous. Part of him didn't care. If Alfred got in trouble it was his own damn fault for being such a head strong idiot. But part of his heart nagged at him that Al could be an idiot, maybe, but he was _his_ idiot never the less.

He could hear his stew boiling and got up to lower the heat to a simmer and get a glass of water.

He sighed and turned to the polar bear curled up under his kitchen table.

"Why does he have to be so difficult, Kumakichi?"

The bear only blinked at him and asked "Who are you?"

"Canada!" He whined, slumping back down into his chair.

It was easy to think of Alfred's flaws, especially lately when he seemed to like wearing them on his sleeve, but the two brothers had a long history and a lot of good times too.

Al did have his good side, even if he made it hard to appreciate sometimes.

It seemed that with Alfred the good and the bad were often impossible to disentangle.

For example, Alfred had practically lived at his house during America's prohibition. They'd had a lot of fun getting drunk together, playing cards, listening to jazz, smoking cigars and enjoying the 20s but Alfred had also wrecked shop on his apartment, ruined Matt's favorite rug, tried to pass what was probably the world's biggest pile of vomit off as a sixth great lake, and promptly disappeared south of the border when it came time to clean up "Lake Whiskey".

"_Bastard..."_ Matthew mumbled at the memory. He couldn't keep the corner's of his mouth from twitching up into a smile though as he remembered the sight of Alfred sprawled out on his living room floor, rolling over to point at the mess he'd just made and grinning up at him through his drunken haze.

"_Look Mattie! I made us a new great lake!" _ He'd pinched his nose and mumbled _"It kind of smells_ _though..."_ before passing back out.

Alfred's enthusiasm could be adorable, but it seemed like every time Matthew would relax and allow himself to think that , the supposedly adorable enthusiasm would lead to Alfred clumsily knocking him into a door, a tree, off a small building, or just completely forgetting that he existed.

Being forgotten always hurt a little worse when it came from countries he was close to.

Yeah, he'd forget him alright, except when he wanted pancakes, booze, or affordable prescriptions.

He loved Alfred, that went without saying, but that damn Yankee had some nerve if he thought Matthew was going to get involved with him romantically.

Sure, yes, they'd had their brushes with romance.

There had been times when they'd be out camping and if they'd had a particularly good day, one without being interrupted by politics, one where Alfred hadn't capsized the canoe or almost put Matthew's eye out with his fishing rod, that Matthew might have sat a little closer to Alfred.

Times when he might have held him a little longer than he would otherwise.

There had been times when Matthew didn't mind that the hooting of owls and the shadows of the forest got Alfred thinking about ghosts and sent him sneaking into Matthew's sleeping bag.

Sometimes when Alfred held him, instead of feeling suffocated, he felt a little less alone and a little more loved.

But only sometimes.

Matthew knew better than to fall for Alfred's flash and pomp and promises.

He already hurt him often enough with his conceit and his neglect. He'd be damned if he'd let him in closer to do the same thing with twice the damage.

Alfred could be his friend, his best friend even, and a loving and devoted brother but his life just wasn't big enough for two people. He didn't have the attention span required for a committed relationship. As soon as he came into Matthew's life and filled it with companionship and happiness, he'd be gone again and more often than not making a mess of things and causing Matthew problems in his own affairs.

The worst part, Matthew knew, as he turned off the stove and made himself a bowl of stew, was that Al was completely oblivious. He was so caught up in himself and in his own little world that he had no idea the ways in which he hurt Matthew or anyone else for that matter.

Matthew would just have to ride this out. He'd lose interest in trying to win him over eventually. He'd get distracted by a shiny new fighter jet or some other toy. He'd go back to his bread and circuses and forget that he'd ever tried to do something more meaningful.

Matthew would just have to be patient.

Alfred would get bored and forget him again.


	7. Cowboy Piss Water

**A/N: Wow, the reviews I got for last chapter just blew me away, it was the most reviews I've had on any chapter yet. Thanks so much everyone! I can't believe I'm up to 30 O_O . I hope I wasn't too rough with Canada last chapter, I just think the guy's been burned and is consequently a bit jaded. **

**Also, a note about this chapter. I hate Stetson cologne. I really hate it. On the miniscule, miniscule chance that any Stetson wearers are reading this...sorry. Um, nice hat? **

**Translations:**

**Mon cher: My dear**

**Mon vieux: My old friend**

**Tu es un bordel! = literally, "you're a brothel!" used like "You're a mess!"**

**Chapter 7: Cowboy Piss Water**

"Go with zee blue it brings out your eyes!" Francis demanded brandishing a vibrant blue silken dress shirt in Alfred's direction.

They were currently in the dressing room of a large, upscale department store. Alfred was examining himself in the mirror as Francis pouted from the sidelines.

"I dunno dude," He said adjusting his sleeves. "I like the red. It's more vibrant and heroic."

"Blue!" Francis stated firmly sneaking around behind Alfred and draping the shirt in front of him in the mirror. "It is calm, smooth, seductive."

"But red is so much more me!"

Francis flipped his hair and tsk'd. "Perhaps that is not a good thing, mon cher."

"Ah come on man," Alfred beamed "Isn't red supposed to be the color of love and all that?"

"Fine!" Francis conceded. He'd already talked Alfred into a three piece suit, a silken shirt AND convinced him that a man making a deceleration of love while not wearing cuff links was nothing but a cad and a charlatan not to be trusted. He could take one little defeat. "but we will have to change the bouquet. Violet irises will never work with a red shirt. We'll go with classic roses."

"I still don't understand why we aren't getting maple leaves. They're his national flower, plant, thing, whatever." Alfred complained as he stripped off the red silk shirt and redressed in his everyday clothes.

"Because Alfred, not everyone is as fanatical about their national symbols are you are. We are proud, yes, but do not feel the need to have them constantly reinforced."

Alfred snorted "This from the guy who not an hour ago was insisting that we HAD to get him irises because they were the most elegant flower known to man?"

"Well they _are_." Francis insisted. "but no, now we will have to go with your precious red roses."

"And you're sure we can't sneak a few maple leaves in there? That'd be pretty romantic right?" He pushed Texas up and wiggled his eyebrows. "You know, intermingling our national flowers and all that?"

"I think you had best forget about zee intermingling for now, mon vieux."

The two left the dressing room and Alfred made his way to the counter to pay while Francis excused himself to call the florist in Ottawa and change their order.

When they met back up Francis produced a notepad and feathered pen from his inner coat pocket.

"New suit? Oui. Cufflinks? Oui. Dress shoes? Oui Bouguet? Oui, I suppose it will have to suffice, boring as it is..."

"Hey!" Alfred jabbed a thumb against his chest "There is nothing boring about the good old red rose!"

Francis only rolled his eyes, snickered and continued his check list. "Ah, Cologne! Our next stop shall be on floor five."

"Cologne?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to buy cologne. I'm pretty sure I have an old bottle of Stetson laying around somewhere."

"Tu es un bordel!" Francis gasped, clasping a hand to his chest. "Ah, non non non! That will never do. Your cowboy piss water is not cologne."

"Did you just call me a brothel?" Alfred asked grasping at the old French he hadn't spoken in years. All he remembered was that old Ben Franklin was mighty fond of French brothels. "Either way, don't diss Stetson buddy or you'll be cruisin' for a bruisin'. Stetson is made of America."

"So you put your armpit sweat in a bottle and sold it for a cheap buck? And you accuse me of being stinky!" Francis turned up his nose dismissively.

"Dude," Alfred seethed. "I am wearing a silk shirt but I will NOT wear your damn French cologne. I'm a stetson man."

"Then you will go without cologne." Francis folded his arms. "because I will not let you spoil your new suit with that vile, malodorous concoction."

"Whatever. Stetson is made of America. I am America. Therefor Stetson will be all up in your precious suit." He stuck his tongue out at the Frenchman.

"Alfred, that makes no sense."

The unruly haired blond simply shrugged. "Anything else on your list?"

"Yes," Francis steeled himself for a fight. "Zee chocolates and we will NOT be buying Hershey. I will be fair, zhey needn't be French. Belgian or even Swiss would be fine, but either way we are buying European."

"And just what the hell do you have against the Hershey bar, Frenchie?"

A vein popped on Alfred's forehead and he saw red. Francis could insult Stetson all he wanted, Stetson could take it, Stetson was tough but Hershey was just a sweet little chocolate company that had no business being insulted. Hershey never hurt anyone, all Hershey ever did was enrich childhoods with delicious smores.

"Don't you raise your voice at me , you ungrateful little punk!" Francis waggled the feathered pen in his face. "Hershey's bars are not romantic! Listen I happen to be very fond of Orangina but I do not pour it into wine glasses and serve it to potential bed mates, you understand?"

Alfred sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can't we just buy him a box of Willocrisp?"

Francis stared at him in awe, resisting the urge to facepalm. "Alfred, are you listening to me at all? You can't just throw Canadian things at him and assume that will work. Willocrisp is not seductive."

"I don't know about that. It sounds kind of seductive._ Willo_crisp." He dragged out the first half, trilling the Ls and puckering his lips as he pronounced 'crisp'.

"Is this like the time you thought adding à la mode to everything would make it fashionable? You can't change something just by pronouncing it differently. Or," he waved a hand "adding little tags in a foreign language you don't understand."

"What?" Alfred laughed "No dude, à la mode means adding a scoop of ice cream. It's about making it tastier."

"I am FRANCE." Francis scoffed. "You can't tell me what à la mode means."

"Whatever." Alfred looked bored "Can we get back to buying Mattie chocolates?"

"Oui," Francis turned on his heel and led the way out of the shop. "but for this, we are buying French chocolate!"

Later that night Alfred threw his suit carefully over his dresser and placed next to it a box of imported French chocolates and the instructions Francis had left for him. He would fly to Ottawa in the morning,

pick up the bouquet Francis had reserved at the airport florist, and make his way to the rink where he knew Matthew would be playing in an informal hockey match. He'd find him after the match and he'd make things right.

He didn't think doing things Francis's way was anywhere NEAR as interesting as his plan to breed a giant Canada Beaver for Mattie to ride to work but he could still do this and breed the giant beaver. It was going to take awhile for science to be able to make a beaver big enough, anyway. In the meantime he could channel funding into it under the guise of it being for military purposes. Hell, maybe he could introduce the beaver cavalry if everything went well.

He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.

Clearly, Matthew just didn't understand that this wasn't a game.

At least that was the way Francis described it.

Alfred rolled over and looked at the empty space beside him in bed and wished it was filled by a certain Canadian. Matthew meant so much to him. He was the only person in the world who could make him cry, England could when he was little, but that was a long time passed. The only reason he could that was because Matthew mattered that much to him, his opinion mattered that much to him.

To put it simply, Matthew was his favorite person in the entire world without exception.

And the fact that he didn't know that? The fact that he thought this was a game, a diversion, something Alfred wasn't serious about? The fact that he didn't know how much he loved him? How much he wanted him? How much he needed his companionship?

Well that was just un-fucking-acceptable to Alfred.

And tomorrow he'd put an end to it, even if it meant swallowing a little pride, he'd do it by god!


	8. It's called blood lust for a reason

**A/N: Totally off topic but OMG did you guys see the latest D r Who? *Squeals* I would like to personally thank the English for their awesome television. Yeah, Stetson makes great hats Doctor but stay away from the cologne. **

**Onto topics related to the chapter: Again, thank you so much for the reviews! We even exceeded last chapter's record! I read and appreciate every one. **

**And as those of you who are reading my sister's stories already know, we tend to work closely helping each other where needed and let's just say I really needed her this chapter! See, I know nothing about hockey (which is a problem when you're writing about Canada, eh?) but thankfully I have an amazing hockey fan sister who turned what would've been a vague, colorless plot point into the vibrant detailed match that it is. **

**Seriously at one point during our conversation I was all "WTF is a zamboni? Isn't that a kind of pasta?" so if you like hockey, and you like the match in this, thank Ratsister! We know what a rabid Red Sox fan looked like in 2004 thanks to our dad. You know, if you're interested. **

**Also, I know it took me longer to get this out than usual. School stuff, Uni visit, you know the drill. I hope the length makes up for that. ^_^ I really am trying to write them longer , it's just taken me awhile to get into it! And Happy Easter everyone! **

**Chapter 8: It's called blood_ "lust"_ for a reason**

Alfred woke up early the next morning. He groggily got out of bed and made his way to the shower. He hoped things would actually go well with Matt today. He really doubted Francis's suave techniques were as potent as he claimed, but maybe if Alfred was sincere it would all work out for the best.

When he was finished he reluctantly stepped out of the hot shower and dried himself off. He briefly considered the decade old bottle of Stetson he kept in his cabinet but decided against it. Cologne of any kind would probably just be overkill. He slipped into the outfit they had picked out yesterday. It felt foreign. He never really wore suits. He wore his uniform, which did include a tie, or casual clothes.

Oh well, it was worth a shot.

Tony laughed at him in his tinny alien voice as he tucked the box of chocolates under his arm and walked towards the front door.

"Good fucking luck, loverboy!"

Alfred waved a hand and ducked his head to hide his blush. "Yeah, yeah. Can it, you!"

The flight was relatively short and painless. He picked up the bouquet Francis had reserved at the airport florist and hailed a Taxi to take him directly to the rink where he knew Matthew would be playing.

His nerves were running high and he was hopped up on sugar from having had nothing to eat but donuts, skittles and cola before and during his flight.

Alfred arrived just as the match was starting; he rushed down the stairs toward the glass surrounding the rink. There was a seat just beside the penalty box in the center. You could see both goals really well. He just had to get it.

"Ha!" He narrowly beat another guy on the way to plop in the coveted front row behind the glass. America sat the bouquet of roses on top of the French chocolates Francis had insisted upon. He leaned forward as the skirmish started, the two opposing teams meeting in the center of the ice for the face-off.

Adjusting his glasses, Alfred leaned forward trying to discern which player was his beloved Canada. He scanned the line up, but the helmets and identical uniforms made it difficult. Dammit, he knew Mattie was always a left forward, and he was one of the guys in the blue and white. However, aside from knowing that forwards were responsible for making the most goals, and getting into the most fights, and knowing what a few fouls were, like icing and that you just never messed with the goalie, he really didn't know that much about hockey. He felt suddenly guilty knowing that most teams in the NHL were in America…

Alfred suddenly perked up, the puck was now in play and he'd noticed the name on the back of the jersey of the player skating it up the ice. 'Williams'. Alright! The American jumped up to stand against the glass. He took note of Matt's number so he could keep better track of him during the game. '82'

"Augh, Boo!" Alfred groaned along with half of the crowd when a player on the opposite team intercepted the speeding puck before it could get to the goal. It wasn't looking good, the score was 1-0 for the other guys so far. Alfred knew it was just a pre-season skirmish, but hey, sports are sports, and he knew he always wanted to win, regardless if it was Baseball, Basketball, or Football season. He sat back in the seat as he watched the game continue, now half way into the first period.

For a time it was still tough, each side had made attempts at a goal, neither making the shot. Just then, Alfred caught the flash of Matt's name as he flew by the glass right in front of him. He had the puck and was making a dash toward the opposite side. He feigned that he was going straight for the goal himself, and in the last minute shot it behind him to the side where another player lay in wait. The red light flashed atop the goal and with the sound of the buzzer the game was now 1-1

America was up on his feet cheering on his intended with all the fervor of a Boston Red Sox fan at the 2004 world series as Canada scored again nearly immediately after, making the tide turn to 2-1. Matt hadn't noticed him yet and Alfred wasn't the least surprised. He hadn't gotten to watch one of Mathew's games in a long while and was now wondering why he didn't make it to every single one. The Canadian was unrecognizable from the shy, quiet, forgettable man he appeared to be at all the world meetings. Here, Matt was in his element skating furiously around the rink, his face a picture of competitive determination.

It was now the second period and Alfred wasn't even bothering to sit down, he was too wrapped up in the game. Cheering when Matt, or anyone on his team had the puck, groaning along with the crowd as it was lost. It was more than five minutes in to the second period when the other team scored, just barely making it past his Canadian. Alfred swore loudly, and he could tell Mathew was thinking some choice words along the same lines as he turned and skated back along the glass, he passed right by Alfred, but his eyes were on the puck alone and he made a dash for it. He intercepted it! Matt's disgruntled face took on a vigilant seriousness as he zoomed toward the opposing goalie. He zig zagged, closing the distance and avoiding the opposite team. He shot. He scored! Alfred yelled and whooped, the game was now 3-2.

Mathew's expression was victorious as he was met by his team who all congratulated him before splitting off for the next face off. No score for a few minutes, though both teams had had several shots on goal. It was now about five minutes to the end of the period and Alfred noticed Matt as he skated around the goal; he got the puck before it could even get near his goalie and make a quick dash to the other side, he passed it to others on his team who then kept shooting it back to him as he made his way straight for the opposing goal.

'Bam!' One of the opposing guys had slammed into Canada, knocking him off course into the glass on the other side from where Al stood cussing every foul word he could think of until his voice was hoarse. He was suddenly filled with the urge to come to Mathew's rescue, but just as he was stepping away from his seat, his eyes still on the two men against the glass opposite him, America stopped.

Matt had pulled back and punched his opponent in the side of the head, knocking off the other man's helmet, Canada held the other guy's jersey in the grip of his other hand as he pulled back to land another blow.

"Woah" Alfred moved back to his spot at the glass, he speechlessly watched his northern brother fight, he landed a few more blows before the other guy managed to get Canada's helmet off as well, punching Matt right in the lip.

America was shook from his speechless daze as he saw the blood around Mathew's jaw, his split lip bruising fast. He yelled and booed and threw all the best terms at the guy who had dared to wound his Matt! Alfred didn't give a thought to the fact that even with the split lip Matt was the clear winner, finally elbowing the other guy in the sternum as the linemen managed to finally pull the two men apart.

Alfred couldn't believe his good fortune as the lineman escorted Mathew to the penalty box he was currently standing beside. America waited as Canada sat down and the ref left him alone before he hopped up on to the seat to lean over the glass surrounding the penalty box.

"Hey Mattie! Awesome fight- you totally kicked his ass!" Alfred grinned down at him

"Alfred?" Canada blinked, up at him, brushing the sweat dampened hair from his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

Mathew was still on a bit of a high from the fight however, though even though his instinct had been to ask his southern brother this, inwardly he was thrilled that Alfred had been enjoying the game, and had been clearly cheering him on loudly. So he had been the one that was so foul mouthed during the fight, Matt had wondered if England had stopped by for a moment before he had realized that wouldn't ever happen. Somehow rugby was so much more sophisticated. Ha.

Matt continued to look up at Alfred as the American looked down over the edge of the glass thoughtfully. Finally Alfred spoke, and as he did so, Mathew began to take in just what the other was wearing. He looked nice. It was kind of a shock.

"Mathew, I just wanted to apologize. I never meant to embarrass you." America looked like he really had been giving this some thought. "I just wasn't thinking clearly. You're not me, and just cause I like something doesn't mean you will too."

Canada stared up at America as the southern nation waited for a response. He definitely _looked_ like he meant it… and it did feel good to know Alfred had been cheering him on.

"Um, well thank you Alfred. I'm really glad you realized that." Mathew smiled naturally then winced at the split lip and wiped more blood from his mouth before it had the chance to drip down onto his chin.

America winced with him, and wanted to hero it up with some awesome sexy consolations, but he remembered he was supposed to be subtle so he stopped himself from jumping over the top of the glass into the penalty box. Instead he leaned down on both arms and praised the other nation's abilities. "You really kicked his ass, bro." He finished up the sentence with a wiggle of both eyebrows in Canada's direction.

Mathew blushed, and smiled again, albeit a bit of a smaller smile. "Ah, yeah," the Canadian laughed still riding his adrenaline high, "I did show that hoser didn't I, eh?" He cleared his throat and added, "You look nice."

"Thanks, I wanted to look my best." America thought maybe it was best to leave any mention of France out for the moment. "So, Mattie – what are you doing after the match?"

"Oh, I-" Mathew stopped before he could finish his sentence. The third period had just started while he still had a couple minutes left in the box and the other team had already scored, bringing it to 3-3. Canada swore loudly and banged his fist against the glass.

Alfred had booed the guy who made the goal and joined Mathew in his jeers, the question temporarily forgotten.

Suddenly the Canadian stopped pounding the glass and looked up at the American who was currently flipping off the opposing goal scorer as he skated past. He really wanted to let himself believe Alfred had had an epiphany and would be a changed man, but the logical part of Mathew that wasn't hopped up on adrenaline, told himself that Alfred would soon forget this match and take him for granted like usual.

But right now, it was extremely tempting to just enjoy having Alfred cheering him on in the stands.

"Yo, Mattie!" Alfred yelled pointing to the clock ticking down his beloved canadian's time in the penalty box. "Your time's up!" America flashed his brightest grin, and then added with a wink, "Go get 'em!"

Canada wasn't really sure what to do in response to the wink, and he knew without a doubt Alfred was flirting when the other blonde blew him a kiss from behind the glass, making Mathew suddenly blush bright red. The Canadian waved weakly as he began again to play.

Alfred's heart jumped at the wave. Success! It seemed Matt had totally forgiven him; Alfred couldn't wait to give him the chocolates and roses after the match.

The match that was currently on going. Alfred jumped up in his seat and cheered again as Matt made an assist to another player on his team and the score rose to 4-3 in the Canadian's favor.

This time Matt did notice him, Alfred had another mental celebration as the northern nation smiled and skated closer to his side of the rink than had been necessary.

As the third and last period went on Alfred continued to cheer and boo as each time got closer to a goal, and each time neither made it. America's voice was definitely going to be hoarse tomorrow, but he was determined to show how much Canada meant to him; he was determined to show him that he wasn't playing games.

Blue bespectacled eyes moved rapidly watching the puck zoom along the ice. He booed loudly as an opposing guy skated it up closer and closer to Mathew's team's goalie. Canada was coming fast up the side of the ice to intercept but he didn' t make it quite on time. The other guy shot and scored bringing it up to a tied game at 4-4 with only 5 minutes left. Unless Mathew's team could score again the match would go into overtime!

"Woah!" Alfred exclaimed just as he was preparing to take a seat once again; he'd been on his feet nearly the whole match. The guy who had just scored had slid into Matt's goalie. The two were arguing now, and the opposing team's guy pushed the goalie back into the net. "No Way Dude! You do NOT fuck with the goalie!" Alfred yelled along with everyone else as Mathew's entire team rushed toward their goal and attacked the hapless guy as one.

America cheered louder than he had all night. Matt's entire team was fighting the opposing team now, even the goalies had gotten in on it. The ref had to call for backup just to get the two sets of men separated. The original guy who had started the whole thing kept egging on the other team, even though his jersey was torn at the neckline and he was sporting a bruise on the side of his face. Matt's blue jerseyed team mates were making their way toward the quickly filling penalty box, some having to be escorted, others going peaceably, one of the guys turned to mouth off at the instigator and was hit in the face. Alfred whistled loudly as Matt broke out of the lineman's grip and skated to defend his teammate.

"Damn, GO MATT GO!" He cheered as the Canadian hauled back and punched the other man in the mouth, sending a tooth flying. America whistled again as it soared through the air and landed on the ice in front of the glass. "Nice!" He called over to his not so demure Canadian as Mathew was being pulled back by two refs now to join his teammates in the crowded box.

Alfred noticed the bloody smile that Matthew flashed his way before he was surrounded by his fellows, receiving high fives and pats on the back in the box.

Both teams first string players were now entirely in the box, even the opposite teams goalie had gotten into the fray. The second round of guys hadn't been expecting to play, and while the third period ended and the game went into overtime no more goals were made. Alfred had stopped paying attention to the puck however, his eyes belonged entirely to Mathew. The Canadian was paying attention to the game as it went on, every once in a while looking up to the clock that ticked down the minutes until his freedom, Matt's eyes occasionally met Alfred's from where he sat beside the glass.

Each time Canada looked to America he blushed and then had to remind himself of America's notoriously short attention span. He would definitely not be hurt again.

Finally the time was up and both teams were out in time for the shootout, the overtime having run through with no scores made, the game was still tied at 4-4. Alfred watched intently as each shot was made; groaning when Mathew's team didn't make it and cheering when the other guys missed.

At last it was Canada's turn. Alfred cheered louder than ever as his intended prepared to shoot. Mathew's expression was determined; he shut out everything around him as he skated toward the goal.

America held his breath as Canada shot. "YEAH!" He yelled louder than anyone else as the crowd erupted, watching the puck go in, the red light flash and buzzer sound signifying the match had been won.

Alfred's heart did another little flip as Canada skated nearby and flashed him another grin on his way out of the rink. Mathew had added a cut under one eye to his bruised and split lip but didn't seem to be bothered by it in the slightest.

This was it. America grabbed the bouquet and the chocolates and bolted across the aisle to jump down the side of the wall all the players had gone down toward their lockers. He'd find Matt and make sure he understood just how he felt about him.

He tried to hang back and nonchalantly follow Matt into the locker room. It was not his lucky day however as Matthew turned around right as he reached the door.

"Alfred," He eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

Al laughed and ran a hand through his golden hair. "Just lookin' for you Mattie!"

"Can it wait until after I get changed?" Matthew asked pulling at his sweat drenched jersey. Why was Alfred giving him that weird look? Matt wished he would just stop staring at the way his uniform clung to him. It was unnerving...

"Of course!" Alfred smiled as his eyes painfully yanked themselves away from the coveted jersey. He would just love to get his hands on that thing._ 'Repress the urge.' _he thought to himself _'repress the urge.' _He waved a hand. "Go right ahead!"

Matthew nodded and turned to enter the locker room but stopped when he noticed Alfred stepping in time right behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Um, Al, you mind waiting here?"

"Why?" He grinned wider unaware that his attempt at innocence was fooling no one. "We're all dudes right? And you haven't got anything I haven't. We are identical you know."

Matt cleared his throat and blushed. "Okay, for one we're not entirely identical, if you haven't noticed. For another "We're all dudes" is no kind of excuse and you know it."

Not entirely identical? Well now he was just baiting him. Alfred was eager to find out how different they were apart from the obvious.

"Ah come on. It's nothing I haven't seen!" He leaned casually against the door frame.

Matthew huffed. "If you're talking about that time we went skinny dipping as kids I'll have you know things have changed. It would make my team mates uncomfortable anyway. You can't come in."

"Mattie," Al looked up at him earnestly "your teammates have nothing to worry about. I won't take my eyes off of you, I swear."

Matthew hated himself for blushing. "Jesus, Al! Just wait outside!"

"Fine!" Alfred gave in with a pout. "But don't try sneaking out the back I have people at every exit."

"I don't believe you." Matt replied though he was suddenly feeling nervous. Al wouldn't go that far would he? He couldn't possibly...

His brother slapped him on the shoulder. "I'm kidding Mattie! Damn! What kind of a guy do you think I am?"

"I am not even going to answer that." Matthew mumbled as he hurried into the changing room, leaving Alfred outside tapping his foot.

In the locker room Matthew hit the showers and then eagerly changed into his clean casual clothes. Blue jeans, sneakers, t-shirt and maple red hoodie. It had been a great game, really invigorating. He loved the high after a good match. Of course now it was tinged by concern about what Alfred was up to.

He did think Alfred meant his apology, which was saying something. He'd taken the time to consider why Matthew might be upset instead of writing it off.

And he'd taken another nation's advice as well. Oh no, Matthew wasn't stupid. This entire scenario had France written all over it. He was frankly surprised (and relieved) that Alfred wasn't drenched in rose scented cologne. He supposed Al would've put his foot down about that. Still, the three piece designer suit and the cufflinks gave it away. Alfred would never come up with that on his own.

It wasn't the suit or the expensive French chocolates that had Matthew feeling positively toward his southern brother however, it was that he'd listened to someone else.

He'd actually been willing to let Francis play dress up with him and all for the sake of winning Matthew's affection.

Well, he really didn't want to hurt Alfred. He didn't know if he could stand to when he was standing out there with a bouquet of roses and his best puppy dog eyes.

Matthew sighed. He supposed he could go along with Al tonight. He did enjoy his company. Maybe they could have fun together. As long as Francis hadn't suggested Alfred hire an accordion player to serenade them along the banks of the Ottawa river, everything would be fine.

He exited the locker room and glanced to where Alfred had fallen asleep leaning against the door frame, roses clutched tightly in his hand.

_'oh come on,'_ He thought _'I was barely ten minutes.'_

"Hey Al," He nudged him softly "didn't you have something you wanted to say to me?"

Alfred blinked open his blue eyes and smiled a small smile. "Mattie! You're finished!" He ran a hand down the arm of Matt's red hoodie. "I always loved that hoodie. It looks really cute on you."

Matthew just stared and waited for Alfred to get to it.

"These are for you!" He thrust out the roses and chocolates "I hope you like champagne truffles because Fran- er, because I hope you do."

Matt felt the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. Why did Alfred have to be so endearingly silly? "Thanks Al." He took them both. "I'm sure they'll be great."

_'Why is this suddenly so hard?' _Alfred wondered as he rubbed the back of his neck. It had been perfectly easy in boardroom. It was easy to shout it to the world, it was easy to deal with it on a grand scale where he was in his element, but this? One on one with just him, Mattie and a scant few props that he had just given away? This was hard. Especially after Matthew had vocally rejected him a few days ago. But never surrender, never give up Alfred reminded himself. Matthew could be harsh sometimes, but Alfred loved him and he knew Matthew loved him too.

"Look what I said earlier during the match? I mean it. I never meant to embarrass you. That wasn't my intention at all. But I also meant everything I said in the boardroom. I don't only love myself, Mattie, I don't. I do love you. This isn't some political stunt, if that's what you think. Though I am officially declaring war on your reservations." He laughed, but his eyes were serious. "So, like, you asked me why asking you to dinner wasn't good enough? Well if you'll say yes asking you to dinner will suit me just fine. Nothing fancy, just me and you. What do you say, Matt? Will you have dinner with me?"

Alfred's heart beat rapidly in his chest as he kept up what he hoped was a cool, calm face. _'Please say yes.'_ Dammit he hated feeling this way. If Francis hadn't veto'd his plan to ride into the ice rink on his Harley and sweep Matt off his feet then he wouldn't be feeling so disgustingly nervous and unheroic right now.

Matthew was suddenly blushing furiously and finding the laces on his sneakers thoroughly fascinating.

"Geez, Al you don't need to be so serious about it..."

Alfred laughed but it was hollow this time. He wished Matt would just put him out of his misery and answer already.

"Of course I'll have dinner with you."

Alfred sighed in relief and his cocky grin suddenly found it's way back onto his face.

"Ha ha! Yeah, well of course, I knew you would! That's why I got reservations at..." He fumbled in his inner coat pocket for the name of the restaurant Francis had recommended . He stumbled over the pronunciation of the undoubtedly stuffy French restaurant as Matthew watched him with his small smile.

"I thought you said nothing fancy, eh? Forget that place. I'll show you my favorite place for burgers. If I wanted red wine and roses all the time I'd date Papa."

_'Ugh.'_ Matthew blushed _'Did I actually just say that? There is so much wrong with that sentence. Mon Dieu. ' _

Alfred was apparently too exited to notice Matthew's disturbance at his oddly incestuous comment.

"Ah, Sweet! Does that mean we're dating?" He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and grinned.

"Ack!" Matthew blushed harder. Had he implied that? Alfred was reading way too much between the lines. "No!" He stuttered.

"That's fine." Alfred slumped an arm around Matthew's shoulders. "Go ahead an play hard to get. It's only a matter of time."

Suddenly a lightbulb went off over Alfred's head. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks and he forced himself to play it cool. This just had to work, it just had to.

"Say, Mattie," He said turning to his northern brother and removing his arm suddenly calm. "If we're going out for burgers I'd really love to get out of this horrible suit. Loan me your jersey, man. It'll be alright even if I have to keep on the slacks."

"Eew Al," Matthew raised an eyebrow. "That's gross. My jersey is covered in sweat and blood."

"Blood?" Alfred bit his lip to keep the happy tremble out of his voice. If he'd wanted it before he wanted it ten times more now. Oh god yes _the blood_. How could he have forgotten for even a moment the way Matthew had been fighting out there on the ice? His eyes trailed down to Matthew's split lip. Oh fuck he wanted him. Alfred knew that Matthew wasn't exactly fond of his violent tendencies so letting on that watching him fight had made him want to jump into the penalty box and ravish him probably wasn't the way to go. "Heh. That's no problem. A little blood and sweat doesn't bother me."

"Really Al that thing was drenched." Matthew replied unaware that instead of dissuading Alfred as he intended he was actually making the situation worse. Not knowing that he had tapped into his southern twin's ample store of blood lust with his display on the ice, Matthew could only watch him in confusion.

"Was it?" Alfred asked nibbling on his lower lip. "Really? Well I'm not surprised. You were really getting into it out there, Mattie. I had no idea you could be so _forceful."_

"Well sports are the _appropriate_ place to take out one's aggression." Matthew chided him, the reproval clear in his voice. "Look if you really want to change we can stop by my apartment and I'll loan you a shirt. I'd like to put these in water, anyway." He nodded to the roses.

"Great!" Alfred smiled. It wasn't ideal but it would still smell like Matthew and that'd be awesome. "Will you loan me some pants too?"

Matthew sighed and turned away so Alfred wouldn't see him smile as he put on his best serious voice.

"Yes but only if you promise not to tell people you "got into" my pants."

Alfred's smile dropped and he replied in genuine surprise. "Dude! How did you know that's what I was going to do? Oh my god, are you psychic?"

_'He can't be serious with that question.'_ Matthew looked over at Alfred whose blue eyes were wide.

_'oh god he's serious.' _Well if Alfred was going to be that dense then Matthew was well within his rights to fuck with him a little. He decided to try for deadpan.

"Yes, Al. I am. I hope you'll keep this just between us."

Alfred nodded eagerly. "Of course dude, you can trust me!" He looked at Matthew in awe. ""Woah bro, that's like a superpower." Suddenly he grinned. "WOW! My sidekick is a superhero! That must make me a super-superhero!"

Matthew growled. Goddamn Alfred and his goddamn ego. "Alfred if I have the superpower wouldn't that make me the hero and you the sidekick?"

Alfred burst into ear-splitting laughter. "Bahaha! Dude, don't be fucking preposterous."

"Oh yeah?" Matt furrowed his brow. "Preposterous? Isn't that kind of a big word for you? Did you pick that up from England?"

Alfred blinked. Oh damn. He'd pissed Canada off again. He wasn't quite sure how or why but Matthew was definitely angry. And things had been going so well! Was this about the sidekick thing?

"Wait, Mattie, I'm sorry" He put up his hands. "I didn't mean that. You're obviously your own superhero. We can both be superheros, okay?" He suddenly got the light in his eyes that meant he'd had an idea he found particularly brilliant. "We'll call you The Maple Maverick because your psychic waves will blow like wind through the trees, terrifying both criminals and squirrels!"

Matthew couldn't help himself. He smiled and felt the anger melting away. "Okay, so who are you then? Captain America?"

Alfred twiddled with the buttons of his suit and felt relief fill him. Crisis heroically averted!

"Nah dude there already is a Captain America and I obviously outrank him. You can call me General America. My biceps are like tanks driving fear into the heart of evil."

Alfred had obviously given this plenty of thought already and Matthew wouldn't be surprised if he'd drawn some comics as well. He shook his head and held out his hand.

"Come on, General. Let's get home before these flowers wilt."

Alfred took his hand happily and leaned in close. "So if you're psychic then tell me, will General America be getting to first base with The Maple Maverick tonight?"

"Alfred!" Matthew blushed and pulled his hand away. "Not if he insists on calling himself General America he won't!"

Alfred snatched his hand back. "Come on, Mattie! I want to see you use your psychic powers!"

_'oh yeah,'_ Matthew thought. _'This is why I don't mess with Alfred. He takes everything seriously.'_

Instead of doing the responsible thing and coming clean, Matthew offered up a vague magic 8-ball response.

"Reply hazy, try again later."

This earned him a groan from Alfred.

The two slipped into a companionable silence as they made their way out of the building and to the nearest bus stop.

"Yo dude," Alfred commented "Why don't you have a car? I'll buy you one if you want. You'd look hot in a red mustang."

Matthew's eye twitched. "Some of us believe in being environmentally friendly, you know."

_'Oh fuck.' _Alfred thought, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. _'I forgot to cancel that order for the 500 maple trees. What the hell am I going to do about those now?'_

He chose not to mention it and instead boarded the bus with Matthew, claiming the window seat with a triumphant "A-ha!" as he slid past Matthew. Matt just shrugged. He didn't really give a damn if Alfred took the window seat. There were multiple giant windows on the bus and it wasn't like he didn't see Ottawa all the time anyway.

It wasn't long until they were back at Matthew's apartment.

Matthew made his way into the kitchen and searched for a vase for the roses.

"Just go pick out whatever you want." He said to Alfred offhandedly, only remembering to call out after the other nation when he was halfway to the bedroom. "Don't touch my underwear!"

Alfred cursed under his breath. Now that he'd specifically asked him not to, operation panty raid was a no-go.

He went through Matthew's closet specifically searching for the oldest most worn in items he could find. He chose Matthew's favorite long sleeved blue t-shirt that had once been a vibrant navy blue that had long been faded and the pants he wore hiking that were fraying at the bottom.

He happily shed the confining suit that Francis had selected and slid into the jeans and t-shirt, loving the feeling of the fabric against his skin knowing that it had also been close to Matthew's.

Damn, he thought as he sniffed the sleeve of the blue t-shirt. He'd never felt this way. He'd never acted so crazy. Well, okay, maybe that last part was a lie, he'd acted pretty crazy before but no one had ever undone him they way Matthew did.

It was a strange thing to admit but he knew exactly what had brought this on. His feelings for Matthew had been simmering under the surface for centuries but as insane as it was, the day Matthew had gone on his record breaking rant and first reduced Alfred to tears was the day he knew he loved him more than anyone else in the world.

It wasn't just the insults, it wasn't just the flaws he was pointing out that bothered him. Plenty of people insulted him every day and he really didn't give a fuck. It wasn't for show, he just genuinely could not care less what they thought of him or anything else for that matter.

But with Matthew? Oh yes it hurt. It hurt like hell.

And he needed that. He loved the way Matthew made him feel, the way he made him feel high and the way he made him feel low.

There were other countries Alfred cared about, other countries he respected. Other countries he loved, namely England and France, but none that he loved the way he love Mattie. None of them could make him cry like Matt could, or make his heart sing like he could either.

"Al?" Matt called "Are you ready to go?"

Alfred snapped himself out of his daze and wandered back to the living room. "For hamburgers? Hell yes I'm ready! Let's go!"


	9. Honesty At The Bottom Of A Bottle

**A/N: Hey everybody! Guess what? IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! Woooh! My party is tomorrow so to celebrate tonight I got off my ass and knocked this chapter out.**

**Okay moving on, Sorry about the lame, overused plot device in this chapter guys. Sometimes my creativity fails me and that's when I break out the alcohol. Also HOLY CRAP Stetson makes the mountie hat! Oh my god, It's like Stetson is stalking me! This is the 3rd chapter in a row they've come up in. First I just wanted to air my grievances with their cologne, then they show up while I'm watching Doctor Who and then tonight I'm just looking into the RCMP uniform as research for this chapter and I'm like *gasp* "No! It can't be Stetson!" but IT IS!**

**Chapter 9: Honesty At The Bottom Of A Bottle**

"I'm proud of you Matt!" Alfred swallowed his gigantic bite of hamburger and chased it with coke.

"I didn't think Canadians could make hamburgers."

Matthew took a sip of his beer and watched Alfred eating across from him. He'd taken him to a hole-in-the-wall pub that he knew made great burgers. Matt himself had the fish and chips which had earned him a hurt look from Alfred. _"You love England more than me!"_ He'd whined but Matthew had just ignored him.

"Really Al," He spoke softly "It's not rocket science. And if you're going to eat burgers all the time you should at least avoid McDonald's and Burger King. I worry about your health."

"Oh!" Alfred sat up suddenly "I forgot to tell you! We had to change the McMattie. Corporate thought a maple barbeque sauce would sale better than straight maple syrup. I disagree, but that's business you know."

Personally, Matthew thought that sounded significantly less disgusting than what he'd had to eat.

"You really were great today." Alfred abruptly changed the subject. "I'm impressed."

"Oh." Matthew couldn't meet his eyes. He didn't remember the last time someone had said that to him. "Thank you."

Alfred began to decimate his french fries.

"You should try football sometime. I bet you'd be great at tackling dudes."

Matthew looked up. Sometimes it really was hard to tell if Alfred was being genuine or just coming onto him.

And then Alfred commenced with the footsie and Matthew's question was answered for him.

Alfred did come on strong but at least there was never any mistaking his intentions. They were perfectly clear.

As their meal came to an end Matthew glanced out the window. It was a bright , beautiful day and there was plenty of Afternoon left and he had the day off work. Normally he would probably go for a walk in the park, pick up some groceries and head home to start cooking supper and read but with Alfred here that wasn't really possible.

"So what did you want to do this afternoon?" He asked him. It seemed that since he'd hijacked their early dinner date he'd inadvertently ended up playing host.

"I dunno." Alfred shrugged before breaking into a grin. "Oh! We could go sightseeing!"

"No!" Matthew groaned. "Just no!"

The last, absolutely last, thing he wanted to do this afternoon was take Alfred sightseeing around his capital city. He would've been more receptive if the American had asked him to go home and experiment with the many uses of stirrups and spurs.

"Haven't we already done this?" Matthew defended. It was impossible that Alfred hadn't already gone sightseeing in Ottawa, not after all these years.

"Yeah dude, last time was in 1966." Alfred dropped some money on the table and stood up to leave. Matthew followed suit. "I assume you've changed some things since then."

"Alfred, no." Matthew folded his arms. Al was the worst tourist ever. He remembered 1966...He'd taken Al to the RCMP museum and he'd tried to steal a horse, hit on a mountie, and suggested they all switch to cowboy style hats because _"Those weird flat brimmed ones kind of look like big brown nipples." _ Matthew made a mental note to check if Alfred was still banned from the museum. If not, he should probably get that renewed.

Matthew would've brought this up as an example of why he couldn't take Alfred sightseeing but Matthew had sworn to never mention the mounties around Alfred.

"Why not Mattie? Aren't you proud of your capital city?" Alfred poked him under the ribs and laughed. "Don't you want to show me around?"

"Of course I am," Matthew pouted "It's you I'm ashamed of."

"Ooh, ouch." Alfred retorted "Maybe I'll just go sightseeing without you then. I mean really, I'm sure I can't get into any trouble on my own. Alone. In your capital city." He mock examined his nails and smirked.

Matthew's eyes widened. The devious bastard! "You behave yourself or I'll have you deported, eh!"

"Whatever." Alfred waved a hand over his shoulder as he made for the door. "I'm off to pick up college girls. If you won't take me sightseeing I bet someone else will."

Matthew huffed and felt his cheeks flush red. "I cannot believe you Alfred! You come up here with roses and then try to ditch me to pick up on my citizens in the middle of our date! You're such an absolute, complete hoser!"

Alfred stopped short and turned around with a smile that could melt ice cream in December. As he threw himself against Matthew's chest and proceeded to squeeze the breath out of him, Matt realized it was too late to take back his words even if he had been able to squeak out a retraction, which he couldn't.

"It's a date! It's a date! It's a date!" Alfred shrieked happily. "I knew you liked me, Mattie! I knew it!"

Only when Matthew let out a noise akin to air escaping from a balloon and felt the world starting to go black, did Alfred release him.

"That's not what I..." he coughed out but then looking up at Alfred's smiling face he thought _'Oh to hell with it...' _ "Yeah, Alright, It's a date but that doesn't mean you're getting more than one."

Alfred clapped his hands together. "Great! I wanna go see Rideau falls!"

"Of course you do." Matthew sighed and pushed his glasses up. "Because they've changed _so much_ over the years. But don't think I've forgotten what I built the canal for!"

Alfred slid close to him and tugged on his curl, causing Matthew to blush and sputter. "I've just had a great idea Mattie!" He crooned "Let's go on a canal cruise and make out. That'll show everyone the hard feelings are all in past, right?"

Matthew pulled away, shielding his hair curl protectively. "That's not proper diplomacy, Al."

Alfred clasped Matthew's hand and pulled him out the door. "It could be, between us, if you wanted it to be."

Matthew really didn't know what to say to that so he said nothing. He wasn't sure what he wanted.

They did go on a canal cruise but much to Alfred's annoyance there was no conciliatory make out session.

Later, walking along the river as the sun set Alfred leaned over and kissed Matthew on the cheek.

"Your city is gorgeous Mattie, just like you."

Matthew didn't even protest. It had been a great day. He wasn't used to so much attention. First his team had won the game, then Alfred had showed up with flowers and, as worried about sightseeing as Matthew had been, they'd simply spent a quiet afternoon along the river.

"So do you uh, want me to get a hotel room or something?" Alfred asked. It felt awkward but Francis had said something about how he needed to convince Matthew he was a gentleman, not that the stubbly chinned hypocrite had any room to talk.

"What?" Matthew turned to him with a laugh "Wow Al, you are really trying too hard. When have you ever stayed in a hotel?"

_What was it Francis had told him to say? _Ah hell. He couldn't remember. That was just as well, because Matthew touched his shoulder gently and reassured him.

"Alfred, nothing has to change. I mean, I'm still going to insist that you, uh, _keep to your side of the bed _but you can still stay at my place, bro."

"Great!" Al skipped ahead of him. "Let's get donuts or something. I have such a sweet tooth."

"Donuts? At this hour? Well we do have those chocolates at home."

Alfred shrugged. "Sure. Yeah. Let's eat those. They'd better be good or Francis will have to answer for not letting me buy Hershey's."

They made their way back to Matthew's apartment, climbing the stairs and enjoying the cool evening air.

"What's that?" Matthew asked pointing to a basket that had been left on the landing in front of his door.

"Beats me bro. I didn't do it." Alfred replied. The large basket done up with a big blue ribbon.

Matthew reached into the basket and pulled out a bottle of Dom Pérignon and whistled appreciatively.

"What's that?" Alfred leaned over and squinted at the label.

"Champagne." Matthew replied. "Very good champagne. I guess Francis is really invested in your success." He groaned. "I hope he's not betting on this." That would be disgustingly typical.

"He didn't drug it, did he?" Alfred examined the bottle for any sign of tampering.

"Of course not!" Matthew defended Francis instinctively. "Don't be silly!"

"Uh...dude..." Alfred's eyes fell back to the basket and the rest of it's contents. Two champagne glasses, as one would expect, but underneath them was a pile of oddly shaped plastic devices, a pack of batteries and a pair of handcuffs. Alfred bent low and picked up one of the items, it looked like a string of large pink plastic beads. "What the heck are these? What does he think we are little girls going to play dress up?" He held the beads up to his neck and giggled.

"Alfred that's..." Matthew's face was redder than his flag. "That's not...oh my god."

"What?"

The sound of someone coming up the stairs shocked Matthew out of his embarrassed stupor.

"That's not a fucking necklace Al! Put those back! Cover up the basket!" He rushed to open the door.

He'd just die if any of his neighbors saw him standing on the landing with Alfred holding a basket of sex toys. He was going to have a long talk with Francis about this.

In the meantime, Alfred was catching on.

"Is that a dildo?" He exclaimed unnecessarily loudly pointing down into the basket. "Why would we need a dildo? We both have penises!"

"Yes, Al. We do. Good Job. Now get the fuck inside my apartment. NOW." Matthew pushed him forcibly into the apartment and slammed the door just in time to see the elderly couple who lived across the hall approaching the landing.

How long had that basket been in front of his apartment? Matthew wondered. Just how many of his neighbors had seen it?

Alfred was laughing obnoxiously and holding up the dildo. "Look Mattie! It vibrates!"

"Yes," He sighed "They tend to do that." He then noticed the surprised look Alfred was giving him.

"What?" He stuttered "Not like I'd know from experience or anything!" _Best not to mention his kinky fling with The Netherlands_. "It's just common knowledge, that's all. I mean how do _you_ of all people not know that?"

Alfred stepped into the living room and sat the basket down by the couch.

"What do you mean how did _I_ not know that? I mean yeah, I did know that, duh. But still don't say it like that. I just thought you might want to know Francis went the extra mile, that's all."

Matthew crossed the living room to the open kitchen where he proceeded to find a bucket and ice for the champagne.

"Well excuse me for wondering. It's not like you'd just held up a string of anal beads to your neck like they were fake pearls or anything."

"Oh is that what those are for?" Alfred giggled. "Weird. They are very very pink though dude you have to admit."

Instead of fetching the glasses Francis had provided, Matthew chose to ignore the basket and it's contents entirely. Instead he pulled two glasses out of his own cabinet and skillfully uncorked the bottle over the sink.

"Aaw," Alfred frowned. "What the heck was that Mattie? Where is the cork ricochet? What's the point of opening champagne if you don't put someone's eye out?"

"Did you want me to put your eye out or something?" Matthew laughed softly and reached over to adjust Texas which was slipping down Alfred's nose.

"Yeah, I guess, mine or yours, either way somebody's eye needed to go out."

Matthew returned to the champagne, tilted the glasses, and filled each flute. He handed one to Alfred who sniffed it warily.

"I dunno dude. Isn't champagne kind of girly?"

Matthew took a sip. Francis damn well better have sprung for the Dom Pérignon after what he'd just put him through. A basket of sex toys? How was he ever going to be able to defend Francis's honor with a straight face now?

"Just drink it Al. It won't kill you."

Alfred took a sip and his eyes brightened. "Hey! It's sweet!"

Matthew smiled. "I told you you'd like it."

Alfred scooped up the box of truffles and he and Matthew had a seat on the couch.

"Okay. I like it, just don't tell anybody."

"Of course not." Matthew relaxed, propping his legs up on his coffee table. It had been a long day, but he was never too tired to take a jab at Alfred. "I wouldn't want to injury your fragile masculinity."

"There is nothing fragile about THIS." Alfred pulled up his shirt and poked a finger at his six pack. "or THIS." He curled his bicep.

Matthew just watched him and laughed. "Sure whatever." He reached over an undid the ribbon that secured the box of truffles. He did have his own sweet tooth even if he was quieter about it than Alfred.

Matthew sampled a truffle and Alfred made himself comfortable by taking off his shoes and resting his legs in Matthew's lap while leaning against the arm of the couch and enjoying his champagne.

'

There was a brief moment of quiet happiness. Then Alfred glanced over to the computer desk across the room where Matthew's laptop was scrolling through a picture screen saver.

He said nothing but the sudden shift in the mood was practically palpable. Matthew stopped halfway through eating his second truffle and turned toward his brother.

Alfred's posture had gone stiff and he was looking anywhere but at the computer.

"What?" Matthew asked.

"Nothing." Alfred was pouting now.

"Al, don't be like that."

Alfred sighed dramatically and pointed at the computer screen which was currently flipping through slides of Matthew's vacation in Cuba last summer.

"Oh Alfred, really?" Matthew's tone was exasperated. Alfred could be such a stubborn brat when it came to Cuba.

"But Mattie, I hate him!" Alfred kicked his legs against Matthew's lap, making his entire body vibrate and his champagne threaten to spill.

"He's a nice guy! You two really should work harder to reconcile your differences."

Alfred did not like the feeling of jealousy. It was decidedly unheroic. He hated that fat fascist bastard for making him feel this way. He hated him even more for getting to chill on the beach eating ice cream with Matthew. The screen saver flashed a picture of Cuba applying sun screen to his brother's back.

"Superman's jockstrap!" Alfred exclaimed "Tell me you don't _like_ like him Matthew. That's not why you don't want to be the Mary Jane to my Spiderman , is it?"

"Alfred," Matthew snickered "everyone knows you come to me when you need some Mary Jane."

"Don't change the subject!" Alfred sat up, curling his legs underneath him and staring at Matthew intently.

"If I was in a relationship I would've told you from the start." Matthew said and it was half true. He would've told Alfred, that was if it was anyone but Cuba. If he had wanted to be in a relationship with Cuba, Alfred would be the last person he'd ever want to find out.

Images of Alfred and his chainsaw flashed through his mind.

"Don't be so jealous. It's not flattering."

Alfred grinned and hugged him around the waist. "Ah come on, how can I not be when you insist on being so cute?"

Matthew hadn't expected Alfred to admit to being jealous. He'd expected it to brush it off with some comment about how awesome he was. It was a day full of surprises.

Alfred had started on his second glass of champagne and was becoming as bubbly as the drink itself, his negative emotions completely soothed by Matthew's assurance.

"Let's look at what all Francis put in that basket!"

"No!" Matthew protested "That's disgusting Al. Let's just forget that thing even exists."

Alfred did not listen to him. When did he ever, really? Instead he leaned over Matthew to the basket sitting beside the couch and pulled out a pink bottle decorated with cherries.

"Cherry flavored super lube." He mumbled "Super lube huh? You should thank Francis for looking out for your comfort Mattie."

"My comfort?" Matthew refilled his glass "what makes you so certain it's my comfort, eh? I always knew you were bad at geography."

How typical of Alfred to just assume that if they were in a relationship he would top. Matthew didn't see any reason why things had to be so black and white but he knew Alfred and his hang ups.

"I'm the Hero, duh."

Oh yes, the all purpose come back.

Matthew was still reluctant to get involved with Alfred. One nice day couldn't chase away years of being taken for granted. Still, Matthew knew that if he were ever to get involved with Alfred they'd have to do things on his terms for once.

Alfred was drinking the champagne like soda. Matthew knew Alfred would love it. His twin loved everything sweet and sugary.

Alfred's cheeks were beginning to blush pink, his eyes were becoming a little brighter and his smile a little loose.

Matthew was a little surprised it was affecting him so quickly. At least he was until he reached to refill his glass and found that Alfred had already finished the bottle.

"You hog everything, Al!" He looked at his loopy brother and shook his head. "It's not coca cola."

"It sure as hell doesn't taste like alcohol." Alfred giggled and ran a hand through Matthew's soft hair.

"Hey, hey!" Matthew stuttered and pulled away. "Don't get handsy, you drunk!"

Alfred turned his attention to the truffles.

"Hey!" Matthew swatted his hand "Don't you start in on those. You bought them for me, dammit."

"MmmOHyeah." Alfred replied through a mouthful of swiftly stolen truffle. He swallowed hard.

"Sorry Mattie. I forgot. Do you have anything else to drink? Anything sweet?"

Well, Matthew thought, at least he wasn't asking for pancakes. He debated with himself for a moment whether or not giving Alfred more alcohol was a good idea.

In the end it was like prohibition all over again and he was playing bartender.

"Well, I have some Port you might like."

"Yeah!" Alfred stumbled after him to the kitchen , arms latched around Matthew's waist.

"Port is sweeter than other wines," Matthew explained as he retrieved the bottle. "It's typically served as a dessert wine, but don't let that fool you Al, it's stronger than most wines so watch yourself."

"Whatever." Alfred grinned and threw the wine back as fast as Matt could pour it. "That's good shit Mattie."

They retired to the living room and Matthew turned on the TV to the evening news.

Alfred nagged him to put on something fun, like a good gorey horror movie, but Matthew put his foot down.

Drunk Alfred was one thing, but drunk, terrified Alfred? No chance in hell.

The news in combination with the sweet wine left Alfred yawning.

He nestled himself against Matthew's shoulder, happy with the contact, and let himself nod off.

Matthew could hear the change in Alfred's breathing as he drifted off to sleep, He could feel Nantucket brushing against his cheek as Alfred's head lulled.

Just as Matthew was trying to dislodge the heavy weight of Alfred on his shoulder he felt and arm wrap around him and hold him close.

"Mattie," Alfred mumbled. "What you said earlier, did you mean it? Are you really ashamed of me?"

Matthew froze. How was he supposed to answer that?

"Well, not all the time obviously. But yeah, sometimes." He tried to pull away from Al's tight grip but failed. "I mean, come on Al you know you make me look like an ass for sticking by you all the time with your continued warmongering, and then you don't even remember half the times that I help you.

You never acknowledge me, and..." He squirmed but Alfred took no notice, continuing to stare up at Matthew with bright eyes and wine stained cheeks. "did I mention the wars?" Matthew sighed. It was best to get this out now while Alfred was vulnerable and drunk as opposed to high on sugar and possibly wielding a large sharp implement. "And don't even get me started on your domestic issues."

Matthew had been finding it easier to be honest with Alfred of late. Maybe it was Al's unusual willingness to listen.

"Sometimes," Alfred's voice came out soft and his breath tickled against Matthew's neck. "Sometimes I don't know what to do Mattie. There are so many, many people. So many different voices all screaming for their opposing values to be recognized and I don't know how to make them all happy. I try but, I don't know what to do. I just want to be a hero. I just want to help people but it never seems to work out like in the comic books. I think I'm doing right and the next thing I know everyone is telling me I've done wrong."

Matthew sat down his wine and wrapped an arm around Alfred's shoulder.

"Al, I am probably the only one who actually knows you do mean well, and I do, I know you mean well." Matthew threaded his fingers in Alfred's hair and cringed at his awkward attempt at comforting his brother. He wasn't usually thrust into this position. "That's why I stand by you even when I am well, I can't deny it Al, ashamed of you, yes."

"Yeah well, I'm not always hot on you either." Alfred mumbled defensively but made no move to put any distance between himself and his northern brother.

As Alfred fell back into a light sleep, Matthew tried to return his attention to the news but couldn't stay focused.

He really wanted to believe Alfred's emotions were genuine, and could be permanent. If they were it would be an emotional depth that Alfred hadn't revealed in a few decades.

Matthew knew that their lives as countries were difficult and whatever he thought of Alfred in his role as the United States of America, he never forgot he was also just his Alfred. His forgetful, excitable, dopey, well meaning, loving if a bit self-centered Alfred.

Matthew knew how hard it was managing his own affairs, taking care of his people, ensuring their wishes were respected democratically and all their voices were heard, he wasn't surprised that even Alfred had to shed his ego and cave to the stress every now and then.

As Matthew was lost in thought Alfred's head had been slowly migrating from his shoulder to his chest and a sudden snore shook it from it's perch and the full weight of his brother collapsed into his lap.

Alfred was a heavy sleeper normally and more so when intoxicated. If he was disturbed at all by his sudden fall, he didn't show it. He simply rolled onto his back and made a pillow out of Matthew's legs.

Matthew stared at him. Texas had gone crooked on his face and Matthew reached down to remove his brother's glasses and set them neatly folded on the coffee table.

Almost acting of their own accord he felt his fingers stray back to Alfred's face, he watched mystified as his finger tips brushed dark eyelashes.

Alfred was really very handsome when he would stand still long enough to let you get a look at him.

Matthew's fingers had moved on to Alfred's flushed, drunken cheeks. They were burning hot from the effects of the wine. Matthew cupped Alfred's face in one hand and brushed a thumb across the smooth skin over his southern brother's cheek bone.

His other hand was playing with Alfred's golden hair and found it's way to his persistent cowlick.

Well, fair was fair, right? Alfred had pulled on his curl earlier so it was only just that he should have a chance to do the same.

He knotted the spike of golden hair around two fingers and gently yanked.

He was not prepared in the slightest for the way Alfred moaned, the way his lips parted and he nestled closer to Matthew's stomach.

Suddenly Matthew's cheeks were just as bright as his brother's, his heart was thudding in his ears and all he could focus on was the way Alfred's lips were gently divided and the soft, deep, sleepy breath escaping from them.

Before Matthew could register what he was doing, he'd pulled Alfred up into his arms, he supported his head with one hand, his fingers tightening around the golden strands of hair. One of his arms wrapped tightly around Alfred's waist. His lips pressed against Alfred's own wine stained lips. His tongue dipped inside and he tasted the sweetness of the wine and the chocolate and the flavor and feeling of kissing Alfred, a sensation he had never expected himself to know.

Blue, hazy intoxicated eyes blinked open and met with the vivid, alert, equally blue ones above him.

Alfred hesitated only a moment before he wrapped his arms around Matthew's neck, moaned, pulling himself up into Matthew's lap and returned his kiss eagerly.

"Mattie?" He breathed in confusion when Matthew pulled away.

Matthew's heart was still beating rapidly but now it was in a kind of shock and horror.

'_Oh god,_' He thought. '_What did I just do?'_

He stood up, pushing Alfred off of him. His twin swayed uneasily on the sofa and watched him with glazed eyes.

"Go back to sleep Alfred." Matthew couldn't look at him, could barely hear himself speak over his own heartbeat.

"Whyssat?" Alfred slurred trying to stand up.

Matthew placed trembling hands on Alfred's firm chest and pushed him back down against the sofa.

Alfred giggled and smiled up at him, not fully registering what was going on.

Matthew quickly darted away to the hall closet to retrieve a spare blanket and pillow.

He returned to find Alfred still trying to stand up and follow him. However, half a bottle of wine and nearly an entire bottle of champagne were working against him.

Matthew fluffed the pillow and pushed Alfred, perhaps a little more roughly than he meant to, against it and spread the blanket over him.

"Sleep Al." He commanded.

"But Matt, I wanna sleep with you!" Alfred protested but his eyelids were already growing heavy again.

Matthew stood there for a painfully long moment , watching to make sure Alfred succumbed to his wine induced slumber. Once he was sure Alfred was genuinely asleep, it was all he could do not to run to his room. He walked briskly and locked the bedroom door behind him.

He undressed as calmly as he could and climbed into bed next to the sleeping Kumajiro.

He lay perfectly still, but his racing mind wouldn't let him sleep.

He'd kissed Alfred.

He couldn't believe himself, what had come over him?

The one thought tormented him all night.

He'd kissed Alfred. He'd kissed him and he could never take that back.


	10. Mounties and Cowboys

**A/N : Late update again. Sorry about that! Thanks for the reviews guys. It's great to know that there are people out there enjoying this. **

**Chapter 10: Mounties and Cowboys**

Around the time Matthew was finally giving in to exhaustion his alarm went off. He sighed in resignation and got out of bed. He showered, shaved and got dressed for the day with robotic efficiency and about as much enthusiasm.

He stepped lightly when he crossed the living room not wanting to wake Alfred.

Alfred who was running his fingers over his lips in his sleep.

Matthew smothered an small noise of distress at the sight. That did not bode well for him and the desperate prayers of _'Please let him be too drunk to remember it.' _that he'd been offering up to the heavens all last night.

When he entered the kitchen he immediately went into loving brother mode. He poured Alfred a tall glass of cool water and placed it on the coffee table next to him with some pain killers for his headache.

Back in the kitchen he put on a pot of coffee and began heating a pan and making pancake batter.

He was finished cooking and cleaning the dishes before Alfred had even stirred.

He piled up a stack of pancakes, filled a dispenser with syrup and placed them on a tray with a cup of coffee. He snuck some maple syrup into the coffee before Alfred could protest that he liked it black.

Which was a complete and total lie. Alfred liked it with sugar, cream, odd flavorings and chocolate shavings. He just liked to pretend he took it black but Matthew had seen the things he ordered at Starbucks.

He carried the breakfast into the living room and placed it next to the water and pills he'd left before.

Well, he didn't want the pancakes to get cold so there was only one thing to do.

He shook Alfred gently by the shoulder.

"Alfred?" He spoke softly not wanting to aggravate the headache his twin surely had. "It's time to wake up."

Alfred groaned and pulled the blanket up over his eyes.

"Come on I made you pancakes." Matthew coaxed.

A single, bleary blue eye poked out from under the covers. "Pancakes?"

"Don't I always?" Matthew sounded exasperated. It would be nice not to make breakfast for once.

"With chocolate chips? Mickey Mouse?"

Matthew's brow furrowed. "Beggars can't be choosers, eh?"

"How about a Bacon-Egg smiley face?"

"Are you even hung over at all?" Matthew snapped, causing Alfred to hiss and grad his head.

"Well I didn't think I was but now I know better, thanks bro!" Alfred sat up on the couch and reached immediately for the water and pills.

Not wanting to stick around, lest a certain uncomfortable subject come up, Matthew immediately made an excuse for why he couldn't stay for breakfast.

"Well, it's sunday and you know I have tons of paperwork due at the office tomorrow so I'll be in my study. Probably all day. If you need anything just help yourself to it." He lowered his voice and shook his head. "Not like you wouldn't already."

Alfred laughed. "Stay and have pancakes with me! You can't have that much paperwork. Even I don't have that much paper work."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Matthew crossed his arms and stared down at his southern brother who was just cutting into his pancakes.

"Um, that I have more responsibilities and more work than you?" Alfred asked taking a syrup coated bite "Duh. You and Lichtenstein should get together and have tea and talk about your awesome lives."

"Give me back those pancakes." Matthew yanked the tray out from under Alfred's nose. "Don't compare me to Lichtenstein! I have plenty of work thank you, important work! And as for you! Your plate wouldn't be half as full if you didn't always go getting yourself into trouble."

"Mattie," Alfred looked up distressed. "I don't even have a plate. You took it!" His face turned to one of determination. "Give me back my pancakes!"

"No!" Matthew huffed. "This is what you get for waking up on the bitchy side of the sofa this morning."

Alfred got to his feet to defend himself . "Well maybe I wouldn't have if someone hadn't made me sleep on the sofa."

"Someone has a sense of entitlement." Matthew chided, dodging Alfred's attempts to reach the pancake tray. "Besides I didn't make you sleep on the sofa you were too drunk to move." The last bit was half a lie. He had been too drunk to move but Matthew would've made him sleep on the sofa anyway.

"PANCAKES!" Alfred told the pain in his head to go fuck itself as he let out a shrill battle cry and toppled Matthew to the ground.

The poor Canuck ended up straddled on his back with a face full of pancake and syrup as the tray flew from his hands and clattered across the floor. The plate had shattered from it's flip after depositing it's contents onto the surprised Matthew.

Alfred laughed and pulled the pancake off of Matthew's face and begun to eat it with his hands.

"_Dammit Alfred~!" _Matthew whined , wiping syrup off his face with his sleeve. "That's so gross! That was on my face. And you broke my plate!"

Alfred had scarfed down the pancake in no time and was happily smiling down at Matthew.

"I like your face." He cooed, leaning closer and licking a drop of syrup off of Matthew's cheek.

Matthew felt his heart beat quicken. Alfred apparently had not forgotten about last night, either that or he was throwing his entire 'Be a Gentleman' plan to the wind.

"W-what are you doing?" Matthew stuttered and felt himself trying to sink into the floor as Alfred continued to clean him. "S-stop that! Al!"

"Why?" Alfred pulled back licking his lips and looking at Matthew in confusion.

"I...I need to clean up this mess. Get off." He pushed at Alfred's hips without success.

"Oh? Is that all?" Alfred shrugged and went back to his work.

Matthew gasped. "I...I don't even have any syrup on my ear! Stop that! Quit sucking it!"

"But you have such a cute ear." Alfred pouted "And it's turning so red! It's practically begging for it!"

"Your breath reeks!" Matthew defended "Go brush your teeth!"

"If that's how it's going to be i'm gonna have to start keeping mints by the bed." Alfred pulled back but continued to touch Matthew's chest in ways that made the Canadian blush.

"Slow down Cowboy." Matthew propped himself up on his elbows and refused to meet Alfred's eyes. "What makes you think you'll be needing mints by the bed, eh?"

"Are you still playing hard to get after last night?" Alfred laughed and Matthew's stomach churned uncomfortably.

'_Dammit. He remembers!' _The one time Matthew thought he could do something reckless and impulsive and get away with it of course he couldn't.

"What are you talking about?" Matthew desperately wished he could turn invisible right now. Why was it no one could ever see him when he wanted them to but yet they always seemed to see him when he wished they would just look away?

Alfred slid off him and sat next to him on the floor. He was confused. Surely he hadn't dreamed it. He hadn't been _that_ drunk.

"You kissed me last night. Didn't you?"

Matthew pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself protectively.

"I...You were drunk."

"So?" Alfred watched his brother's face carefully. "You weren't were you?"

Matthew briefly considered lying. He _had_ been drinking and Alfred would trust him implicitly.

But that was just the problem...Alfred's trust was implicit and Matthew just couldn't bring himself to violate that.

"No." It came out as a miserable whisper and he buried his head in his arms.

Alfred felt his heart drop. Why did Matthew look so upset? They'd had a great time yesterday. Hell, they had a history of great times. No relationship was easy, either for Humans or Countries, they always had their black spots, but over all He and Matthew had a very successful friendship. And while Alfred had been worried that Matthew's reluctance was a simple lack of attraction, last night he had been the one to kiss him, and rather passionately at that.

So why was he so hesitant? Al knew Matt was a cautious person by nature but this obviously went beyond that.

"Mattie," He asked calmly trying to convey his seriousness "We're bros. We've been together since the beginning. Why don't you want to do this? I mean, I was worried maybe you just didn't feel that way about me, but then you kissed me. Are you worried what everyone else will think? I know I'm not the most popular guy right now."

Matthew shook his head. "I don't care what they think , Al. They probably couldn't remember me long enough to criticize me for it anyway."

Alfred waited patiently for Matthew to go on. He rocked silently in place and twiddled his thumbs to help him deal with having to sit still.

When no further response came from Matthew, Alfred went on.

"Why won't you be frank with me, Mattie?"

His brother's behavior was worrying him. Alfred had always counted on the fact that Matthew would always be there, open, honest (sometimes painfully so) and essentially loving. If Matthew wasn't comfortable talking to him then something must be wrong.

Matthew lifted his head to see that his brother's eyes were worried, sincere and...scared?

That wasn't an emotion Matthew often saw there. It helped to soothe his own worries. Alfred could be so intimidating, whether he was wielding a chainsaw or just being his usual brusque self. But it was impossible to be intimidated right now.

"I don't...I don't trust you not to hurt me." It felt good to get it out in the open and Matthew felt a knot that had been forming in his gut start to loosen at his words. "and I don't trust you not to forget about me or to give me an equal partnership."

Matthew's words hurt Alfred just in knowing that someway and somehow he'd given his brother cause to feel this way. He tried to play it off with his usual cheerfulness.

"Hey Matt, come on! What do you mean you worry about an equal partnership? You know i'm gung-ho for democracy! We can vote on everything!"

Matthew's frown twitch into a small smile in response to Alfred's grin.

"Alfie, how does democracy work with just two people?"

Alfred was struck dumb by the question. If there were only two people and they had differing votes how could they...? He shook his head. Of course democratic voting worked in every single instance. He just didn't know how yet. Surely they'd figure it out through trial and error.

"I dunno but I'm sure it does, dude. How could it not?"

Matthew laughed softly and Alfred proceeded to more serious matters.

"Look, you can trust me Mattie, heroes don't let people down. I'll be here for you when you need me, I promise."

Matthew knew Alfred was sincere. He believed he would always be there. He didn't realize how often he got bored or distracted and just ended up not being there when Matthew needed him.

"I'm just asking for a chance." Alfred put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "If you don't want to do this, just tell me now and I'll back off." _Lies, lies, lies, _all lies and he knew it. "but if you want this then think of all the times I _have _been there, and trust me. I mean, come on bro, it's not like i'm asking you to marry me or anything. That's not even legal south of the border, yo."

"So what exactly are you asking of me?" Matthew asked, peering into his brother's blue eyes.

Alfred shrugged. "Just stop fighting this. Let it happen naturally, like last night. Do what you feel."

"I feel like telling you to clean up this mess and buy me a new plate."

Alfred laughed. It wasn't quite the response of _'I feel like letting you ravish me on top of this pile of spilled pancakes.'_ that he was hoping for, but he could run with it.

"You've got it, Princess." He stood suddenly scooping Matthew up into his arms. "Your knight in shining armor is on the case! But first let's get you cleaned up."

Matthew smacked the back of Alfred's aching head. "Knights in shining armor do not spill pancakes on people's faces."

Alfred groaned at the feeling of Matthew's hand colliding with his throbbing head but he continued walking towards the kitchen sink. He set Matthew easily on the counter.

"Hey most Princesses aren't low down dirty pancake thieves either." He ran warm water into a rag and began to clean the syrup off of Matthew's face in a manner that his northern twin found less offensive than before.

"I'm not a fucking Princess, eh!" Matthew kicked Alfred in the gut which really only caused Alfred to giggle.

"Heh! That tickles Mattie, do it again!"

Matthew pouted. "No!"

He noticed something out of the corner of his eye and leaned over the bar of the open kitchen to yell into the living room. "Kumajichi! Don't eat those! They've been on the floor!"

Alfred laughed again. "Your Bear is cute."

"Huh?" Matthew turned back to him. "Yeah, I guess he is."

Alfred finished cleaning off the last of the syrup and there was an awkward moment as he stood there waiting for Matthew to say something in response to his earlier prompt and being unsure of whether or not it was coming, he wondered if he should just clean up the mess in the living room and return to the topic then.

Matthew was growing uncomfortable under Alfred's expectant gaze. He tugged at the collar of syrup stained shirt.

"I should really get changed." He mumbled "and I do have paperwork."

"By all means, bro." Alfred gestured as if he expected him to strip in the kitchen.

"Oh come _on_," Matthew laughed "You know that isn't going to happen."

Alfred grinned "Yeah but I know it _should_ happen. I'm a morally conscious man Matthew. I live in a world where should takes precedence over will."

"Morally conscious man, my ass! You're just a pervert."

"I'd love to be very conscious of your ass. Morally or otherwise."

Ah yes, that could be a touchy subject with Alfred and was best not addressed.

Matthew quickly changed the subject. He caught Alfred's hand.

"Look, if you want a chance, you can have it. Just don't make me regret this, all right?"

Alfred's smile looked like it might actually be stretching so wide it was tearing at the corners.

He very nearly broke into a 'YeeHaw!' before realizing Matthew would never let him live it down if he did.

"So I can kiss you now, right?"

Matthew brushed profusely "Well, I...I guess but..."

Whatever he had to say was lost because the minute Alfred had registered his consent he was on him like chili over cheese fries or the gravy in poutine.

Luckily, the taste of pancakes had chased away Alfred's morning breath and Matthew was able to relax into the kiss and enjoy the gentle, exploratory strokes of Alfred's tongue over his own.

When they broke for air, Alfred rested his forehead happily against Matthew's own and sighed in contentment wrapping his arms around his brother's waist.

Matthew hated to interrupt Al's quiet happiness but he hadn't been lying earlier he seriously did have paperwork and his clothes were sticky.

Alfred let him go, helping him down from the counter even though it was clearly not necessary as Matthew's feet were barely an inch off the ground.

"Okay." Alfred nodded. "Do your thing Matt. I'll clean up in the living room and then I'm going back to sleep." He tapped his head, "Before they start to feel this down in D.C."

"All right," Matthew tucked a stray lock of hair behind Alfred's ear. "I'll get you up by lunch time. I hope to be done by then."

As Alfred skipped off to the living room, Matthew made his way to the bedroom to change.

His stomach was knotted with anxiety and fear for the future but he'd done what he wanted to do.

Alfred wasn't the only one with a thirst for adventure. Sometimes a man just needed to follow his heart.

If he was lucky this would make Alfred calm down and leave off the dramatic displays.

Matthew snorted. Like hell that would ever happen outside of his dreams. Alfred was just that kind of a guy.

Matthew had realized last night that this relationship was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

No matter how much his head cautioned him against it, his treacherous heart was going to sell him out.

The best thing to do, he'd concluded, was to try and reconcile his head and his heart and go on the offensive.

It wasn't something he was used to doing, especially not where Alfred was concerned, but he was going to have to try to be a little more assertive. Otherwise he knew he'd wake up one day and realize he was in a relationship that he'd had no hand in making.

Matthew took a deep breath as he finished dressing and prepared to head out to his study.

The way his traitorous hands trembled might have been trying to discredit his determination

but anyone who believed them must have missed the hard glint in his eye.

Alfred could crack jokes about it all he wanted, but in the end Mounties _did_ always get their man, so that cocky cowboy had better watch out.


	11. Sky High

**A/N: Hi everybody! Thank you all for the amazing reviews. I know it's been awhile since I updated but I'll try to have a chapter out once a week at minimum. I appreciate your patience with me as I plod through my first fic. Oh and I don't think I made the time for this totally clear. I know I mentioned in Chapter 8 that Matt was involved in a pre-season skirmish, well Hockey season starts around October typically so I reckon it's about September right now in fic-land. **

**Also, frottage ahead! You have been warned. **

**Chapter 11: Sky High**

Matthew put the final signature on the last document in his stack of paperwork to take into the office tomorrow.

He stood up and stretched his aching limbs. He hadn't moved from his desk in over 4 hours. He could periodically hear Alfred snoring or thrashing about in the living room as he enjoyed his post-breakfast nap.

_'Lucky bastard.' _Matthew thought. As much as he teased Alfred about being a slacker, his southern twin did manage to get his work done and always seemed to have time for leisure activities as well.

He made his way down the hall from his study to the living room and his heart did a happy little flip at the sight that greeted him.

Alfred had kicked the blanket off the sofa and was curled up on his side with his arms wrapped around Kumajiro and his face buried in the sleeping bear's hair.

Matthew supposed it was just one of those lazy Sundays. Alfred was usually an uncontrollable ball of energy but occasionally, often after a night of partying, he liked to sleep in until the afternoon.

As for Kumajiro, randomly falling asleep was to be expected of the lazy forgetful bear.

Matthew stooped and picked up the fallen blanket. He folded it and set it aside before having a seat on the sofa next to Alfred. Al was supposed to be leaving tonight but Matthew knew if he only asked his brother would stay and take an early flight out in the morning. He could do a lot of his work on his laptop anyway. Only the papers he had to sign needed to be done in person.

At the feeling of the couch shifting slightly under Matthew's weight Alfred blinked his eyes open and yawned.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asked with a small smile, placing his hand on Alfred's leg.

"Totally. You know I'm indestructible. What's a hangover to me?"

Matthew laughed softly. "So you just felt like sleeping in, eh?"

"Well," Alfred ruffled the sleeping Kumajiro's fur. "when you have a pillow like this I don't see why you don't more often. Tony is pretty bad ass, don't get me wrong, but he'd make a crap pillow."

"True," Matthew mused "but I bet he's an excellent alarm clock."

Alfred groaned. "You have no idea. Sometimes I can't tell if he's getting really creative with the English language or speaking in some crazy alien code."

"He does have quite the mouth on him."

"Yeah," Alfred stretched and sat up on the couch, dislodging Kumajiro who growled at having his sleep interrupted. "He's worse than Arthur when he gets drunk."

"So, about lunch, do you want me to cook or should we eat out?" Matthew asked.

"Come on," Alfred stood up and extended his hand to Matthew. "You've been working so let's go out. My treat."

Matthew blushed and stood up, taking Alfred's hand. "Thanks Al, that's very considerate of you."

Alfred just shrugged. "Think about where you want to go. I'll go clean up and get ready to leave."

Later, as the two had lunch at a quiet French café, Matthew broached the subject of Alfred moving his flight back to the morning.

"You know," Alfred said as he set down the bowl he had lifted to finish off the dregs of his French Onion Soup. "I'd never tell Francis this, but his cooking IS pretty good."

"I'm glad you liked it." Matthew smiled.

"Mmm." Alfred replied noncommittally reaching a hand across the table to steal some French fries from Matthew's unfinished Poulet Frites.

"Hey Al," Matthew felt a little self-conscious asking this but reminded himself of his earlier resolve. If he was going to be in a relationship with Alfred they were going to need to communicate better, he was going to have to be a little more assertive. It was silly to be worrying about this, especially when it was something he thought Alfred would be receptive to. But then again there was always the slim chance of being rejected because Alfred was too busy with work, which of course Matthew would understand, but it would still be awkward...

"Dude!" Alfred waved a hand in front of his face. "Mattie!"

"Huh?" Matthew snapped out of his anxious inner monologue. "What?"

Alfred laughed loudly. "You totally zoned out on me. You were all "Hey Al" and then nothing for like 3 minutes."

"Oh." Matthew shifted in his seat. "Well I was just going to ask what time you have to be at the office tomorrow."

"I usually go in at nine. Why?" Alfred half hoped Matthew would propose they ditch together and go hang gliding instead or something cool like that. Of course, if he did, he'd have to turn him down, which would be totally weak, but his boss had been kind of peeved at the amount of time he'd been spending up north lately. He kept insisting that Operation Seduce Canada was not in the national interest to which Alfred had replied that he _was_ the nation and it was most definitely in his interest.

The President had conceded at that point but insisted that Alfred stop giving him daily briefings on his progress. Which Alfred was pretty bummed out about actually since he was now making such excellent progress.

"I was wondering if you'd like to stay and extra night and just take a flight out early in the morning. I understand if you have work you need to finish tonight though."

Wait, did Matthew just ask him to stay an extra night? Oh hell yes, progress! And he hadn't even told him about Project Titanium Beaver yet. Which reminded him he needed to call the military science guys and see how that was coming along.

"Of course I will! I'm done with most of my work anyway. I just need to sign a few things and e-mail a presentation."

"Great." Matthew smiled and reached a hand over to rub Alfred's forearm, sending shivers down his spine. "We can watch a movie and order in."

"Awesome! I heard they have _Sexy Tourists Dying in Horrible Ways : The Sequel _on Netflix now."

"Wow." Matthew mumbled. "That sounds...awful."

Alfred snorted and kicked Matthew's shin lightly under the table. "Don't tell me you want to watch Slap Shot again for like, the hundred billionth time."

Matthew blushed. "Ah, no! But a comedy would be nice."

Alfred shrugged. "Okay I can roll with that. I wouldn't even mind watching Slap Shot again. Paul Newman is an American hero."

Matthew glanced down and noticed, with a sigh, that all the French fries had disappeared from his plate during their conversation.

He looked up to see Alfred popping the last fry in his mouth.

"I need to work off some energy." Alfred stated, and he was in fact fidgeting in his seat. "I slept too much today. Let's cross the river and go to Gatineau Park."

"Oh? You want to look at the foliage?" Matthew asked as he stood up and pulled on his coat.

"What? Leaves? Oh sure, and rock climbing and hiking. and mountain biking and..."

Matthew was starting to worry he'd be exhausted by the time he got in to work tomorrow as he listened to Alfred ramble.

"So, you game?" Alfred asked tugging on the ends of Matthew's scarf.

"Huh? Yeah I guess." Matthew replied not entirely sure what he'd just agreed to.

Matthew enjoyed the afternoon of biking along the trails of Gatineau Park with Alfred. Sure, Al liked to do things at a faster pace than Matthew but they were engaged in activities they both loved.

Just as he was settling down and thinking it was time to enjoy a leisurely stroll under the trees before making their way home for dinner and a movie Alfred popped an unexpected question.

"So, you ready for paragliding Bro?"

"Ready for what?" Matthew asked pushing the hair out of his face.

"Paragliding!" Alfred grinned.

"W-when did I agree to this?" Matthew fumbled with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly when he'd agreed. He supposed this is what comes of tuning out Alfred's rambles.

"Come on Mattie, we can't let it get too late."

"You don't even have any gear!" Matthew pointed out.

"Duh. I called a service. They'll meet us up on the cliff." Alfred tapped his foot impatiently.

"When did you have time to do that?" Matthew felt himself panicking slightly. He was alright with some extreme sports but some how jumping off a cliff harnessed to Alfred didn't seem like the brightest idea.

"When you went to the bathroom before we left that French place."

"Um..."

He looked at Alfred's blinding smile and unwavering blue eyes and the next thing he knew they were standing on the top of a cliff with their back to the wind. Each wearing his own separate harness and then strapped together, Matthew pulled close against Alfred's chest as he watched his brother inflate the giant wing in front of them.

Matthew's heart beat rapidly as he watched the wing fill with air. How could he have let Alfred talk him into this? Surely they would soon be crashing to their deaths. The two largest countries in North America, the second and third largest in the world, wiped off the face of the earth in one fatal crash at the end of a pseudo-romantic 100% suicidal dive.

Suddenly the wing was in the air and Alfred was leaning over to whisper against the wind and into his ear.

"Ready Mattie?"

Then they turned into the wind, Alfred guiding Matthew before him, they were running, Matthew squeezed his eyes closed and in a few swift movements their feet had left the ground.

"Maple!" Matthew squeaked as he felt himself being pulled into the air. He opened his eyes and gasped at the sight of the park spread out before him, the beginning of fall colors blossoming across the landscape. He looked up to see Alfred's hands on the toggles dangling from the paraglider.

"Isn't the sunset great from up here?" Al called down to him, the wind threatening to carry away his words.

"Yeah. It is." Matthew nodded. His heart was still beating rapidly but he was starting to thrive on the thrill of it all, the feeling of being so high above the ground, strapped against Alfred, over looking his capital region.

Alfred pulled the toggles to dip them to the right and to the left, they dipped and spiraled through the air. Matthew gradually relaxed and enjoyed the ride, even laughing out loud when they were propelled by a sudden heavy gust of wind.

It almost seemed too soon that the flight was over. Alfred pulled down hard to slow their descent and glide them in to a gentle landing.

They stumbled slightly and got their bearings as the wing collapsed behind them. Alfred wrapped his arms tightly around Matthew's waist.

"See? Taking a leap of faith isn't so hard, is it?" He kissed Matthew's neck as the blond Canadian removed his helmet.

"Oh Al, you're so corny sometimes." Matthew smiled and turned around in his arms and caught Alfred's lips in a kiss. The_ 'I love it.'_ remained unspoken.

They returned their equipment and began the trip home debating over whether it was best to order Chinese or pizza. Eventually, pizza won out as Alfred insisted that Yao was stalking him through Chinese delivery services in an attempt to recoup some of the money he had lent him. Matthew thought that sounded a bit paranoid but indulged his brother never the less.

Once they were back at Matthew's apartment, Alfred was reluctant to let go of his hand to let him order the pizza. With a little coaxing, Matthew managed to make his way to the kitchen phone as Alfred went to change into his pajamas. It was still early in the evening but Alfred insisted that the only way to fully appreciate pizza and a movie was in one's pajamas.

After ordering, Matthew walked to his bedroom to change out of his own clothes that had grown uncomfortable and sweat drenched over the hours of physical activity.

He stopped in the door way. Alfred was still in the middle of changing. His pajama pants were already on but he was just pulling his sweatshirt off over his head.

Matthew blushed furiously and felt like a bit of a creeper for staring. He told himself he was being ridiculous, that he'd seen Alfred shirtless dozens, no, hundreds of times, but he knew things had changed.

Now, when he looked at Alfred's bare chest instead of the usual thoughts that filled his head

_'How does he eat so many burgers and not get fat? I know countries can get fat, I've seen Cuba in swim trunks!' _His mind was suddenly clouded with the desire to reach a hand out to map the chest, the shoulders, and the arms of the figure that was so very like his own and yet so enticingly different.

Alfred's skin was golden with a typical California tan, Matthew's was porcelain. They were both muscular but Alfred's build was heavier, his arms more developed from his love of lifting weights.

Matthew's form was leaner and he was just the faintest hint taller, reflecting their difference in land mass. Though, Matthew thought with a small smile, Alfred would never acknowledge he was taller, even be it by an inch.

_'Ah damn!' _

Alfred had finished pulling on a fresh T-shirt and noticed him staring. He turned to Matthew with that cocky grin that his northern twin both hated and loved.

"Like what you see, baby?" Alfred winked and rubbed his hands across his chest for comedic effect.

Matthew snorted. "And what if I do? What're you gonna do about it?"

Instantaneously, Alfred had pulled him into his arms. "I'll give you the grand tour if you want. No need to just look."

Matthew pulled back long enough to strip off his sweater. Alfred sighed in pleasure and placed his hands on Matthew's waist. He loved the look of his pale, pristine skin.

"Mattie, you're beautiful."

Alfred latched himself to Matthew's neck , determined to see just how a bruise would blossom on Matthew's skin.

Matthew thrust his hips forward to meet Alfred's own. He groaned as he sucked, nibbled and bit on the sensitive flesh of his neck.

It felt so right and so natural the way they molded into each other perfectly, neither had ever experienced such a thing with another partner and it felt like electricity sparking between them.

How had they gone so long without giving in to this?

Matthew buried long slender fingers in Alfred's golden hair and pulled him back causing him to bite back in resistance and put the finishing touch to the dark red and purple bruise he'd painted there.

Matthew attacked Alfred's mouth with a ferocity that temporarily stunned his southern twin. Soon enough Alfred was responding in kind, his hands tracing every inch of Matthew's skin they could reach just as Matthew did the same to him.

Alfred hooked his fingers in Matthew's belt loops and pulled him close as he possibly could. He ground against him, already half-hard and loved the feeling of Matthew responding equally.

He felt Matthew's fingers tracing his biceps appreciatively, he felt strong, pale hands grip his upper arms and guide him backwards onto the bed without ever breaking their kiss.

Alfred put up no resistance as Matthew climbed on top of him and quickly disposed of his T-shirt.

He gasped as Matthew placed feather soft kisses all down his chest. Those slender fingers now outlining the curve of his waist.

"_Matthew._" he moaned.

And then the doorbell rang and that moan quickly turned into a growl.

"_Matthew._.." Alfred panted in frustration. "THIS is why you need to let me bring my guns across the border."

Matthew swore. "They said 30 minutes. Dammit, it's barely been 15!"

Alfred had never been annoyed by speedy delivery service before but there really was a first time for everything.

Except, apparently, the first time he was angling for.

Matthew was up and off of him in a minute, throwing on his shirt and heading toward the door.

Alfred stared down at his wilting erection pitifully.

Even the smell of freshly baked pizza couldn't cheer him.

_'I bet post-coital pizza would taste way better!'_ he mentally whined.

Soon, Matthew returned holding a stack of pizza boxes with one arm and giving him a knowing smile.

He crossed the room and gave Alfred a small kiss. "Cheer up, Cowboy. We can finish that later."

Alfred sighed and pouted, giving him his best '_but I want it now!'_ face.

Matthew tapped the stack of boxes. "Alfie, the pizza will get cold."

"Fair point." Alfred conceded, finally starting to think of all the hot melty cheese and fresh sizzling pepperoni. "It wouldn't be very heroic of me to let pizza get cold."

He stared at the pizza boxes suddenly lost in a fantasy world.

_"Help us! Help us!" The pizza pieces cried from the backseat of the evil, negligent delivery man's car. "We're not being eaten! We were supposed to be delivered 20 minutes ago!"_

_"Don't worry Pizza! General America is here!" and there he was, complete with 4-star general's uniform and long flowing American flag cape._

_"Yay! General America!" The strangely effeminate sounding pizza slices chorused._

_"Oh no!" rasped the evil moustachioed delivery man. "not General America!"_

_He slammed on the accelerator cackling "You'll never stop me, Hero! This pizza will be cold before it can be eaten so help me all that is evil and unjust and totally not democratic!"_

_"Stop in the name of the law!" General America shouted, pumping his fist into the air and taking off after the delivery car, running as fast as lightening._

_"Blast!" The delivery man cried as General America latched on to the trunk of the car and pulled it to a sudden stop causing the delivery man to go flying through the windshield (the pizza was miraculously unharmed) "Foiled again!"_

_General America stood over the mangled delivery man and shook his head sadly. "If only he'd been wearing his seat belt!"_

_"Help! General America! We're getting cold!"_

_The hero rushed back to the pizza and lifted the box securely._

_"Don't worry!" He reassured the pieces of pizza. "Just tell me the address you're supposed to be delivered to! I'll get you there!"_

_"There's no time!" The pizza pieces gasped. They were starting to sound enchantingly similar to Fay Wray. Oh yes, Alfred did love Canadians. "You've got to eat us now, General America or we'll get cold!"_

_"Well," General America coughed and loosened his tie "if you ladies insist..."_

"Alfred?" Matthew's voice shook him from his daydream. "What the hell, eh?"

He was pointing down at Alfred's newly hardened erection.

"You just zoned out and started mumbling nonsense." Matthew raised an eyebrow.

Alfred ignored his boner and sprang to his feet grabbing Matthew by the shoulders.

"Dammit man, don't you understand the urgency?" He shook the stunned Canadian. "We've got to eat this pizza NOW Maple Maverick! Now! She's practically begging for it!"

"She?" Matthew squeaked. He wasn't sure how he felt about eating pizza with a gender.

They ended up in the living room watching Slap Shot for what was by Alfred's (highly inaccurate) account the one hundred and fifty eight billionth time. Neither of them really cared about the repetition as they spent the time wrapped in each others arms, enjoying their pizza and laughing along to well known jokes and familiar scenes.

When the movie was over and the pizza boxes emptied, Alfred stood up with a yawn and a stretch.

Matthew peeked over at Kumajiro making sure he was sound asleep on the couch before placing a hand on the small of Alfred's back and guiding him to the bedroom.

Alfred felt full, happy and sleepy and was only too willing to climb into bed and roll over to pass out.

Matthew on the other hand had not forgotten his earlier promise.

He slid up to Alfred, spooning him from behind, and whispered in his ear.

"You're not going to sleep on me, are you?"

Whatever sleepiness Alfred had felt was suddenly chased away by the feeling of what Matthew was pressing against him.

"Oh." Blue eyes went wide. Alfred tried to roll over but Matthew gently motioned for him to stay in place. He pulled Alfred's shirt off over his head and began to lay kisses all along his shoulders.

Alfred leaned back against him happily. He twisted his head to the side in order to meet Matthew's lips in a kiss.

Their tongues slid over each other, each gently exploring and enjoying the foreign taste of the other's mouth.

Alfred pressed back against him and whined. "Take your shirt off Mattie. I want to feel your skin next to mine!"

Matthew was happy to oblige and to press his cool skin against Alfred's waiting warmth.

Matthew trailed a hand down Alfred's chest and beneath the waist band of his coca-cola themed pajama pants and curled his hand tightly around Florida. Alfred was hard and hot enough to burn.

Alfred's hissed and bucked into Matthew's grip.

"God, Matt!" He threw his head back against Matthew's shoulder and continued to rut against his hand.

Matthew smiled and steadied Alfred's hips with his other hand. "Slow down, eh."

He nuzzled Alfred's neck causing his southern twin to whimper and try to press impossibly closer against him. "No, you speed up!" Alfred protested.

"Ssh!" Matthew insisted nipping Alfred's ear and rubbing his erection against him.

He felt his own need straining against his cotton pajama pants and pulled them down. He brought his spare hand up to play with Alfred's nipples as he softly asked him to remove his own pants.

"Geez Mattie who knew you were so horny behind that innocent facade!" Alfred laughed, happy to comply with Matthew's request.

"Who knew you had such a nice ass?" He asked, reaching down to squeeze it.

Alfred bit his lower lip to stifle a noise of appreciation. "You're late to the America Appreciation Party dude. Everyone knows I have a perfect body."

"Ow!" Alfred squeaked as Matthew pinched his left nipple hard "Indiana!"

"Don't be so conceited."

"Hmmph." Alfred smirked pressing his ass against Matthew's erection. "Tell me it isn't true."

Matthew refused to moan but couldn't stop himself from returning Alfred's motions and letting his hard cock glide over smooth skin.

Matthew leaned over Alfred and pulled a bottle of lube from his bedside table.

"Hey! Why the hell do you have that?" Alfred felt his characteristic jealousy flare up in the pit of his stomach. Why the hell did Matthew keep lube in his bedside table? He'd better have bought that because he was coming up because if he found out someone else had been touching his Mattie he'd get his shotgun and so help him god... "Ah, ah, oh, oh fuck!"

His violent thoughts were drowned in a sea of sudden pleasurable sensation as Matthew slicked his hand with lube and clutched his cock tightly, starting a fast steady rhythm.

Matthew grinned into the curve of Alfred's neck as he watched him toss his blond hair against his shoulder and let a moan escape from his lips.

"Why are you so good at..." Al gasped.

Matthew knew what Alfred was getting at but smothered his words with a few skillful pumps.

"So help me god I'll...!" Alfred shook a fist in the direction of the wall and continued to buck into Matthew's hand.

"Put the fist down Alfred." Matthew crooned as he used his free hand to uncap the lubrication and pour some down the small of Alfred's back and between his cheeks.

"Hey!" Alfred tensed up. "Just what in the hell..."

"Ssh. Relax." Matthew licked and sucked on Alfred's sensitive clavicle. "I'm not going to just do that without asking you or anything." Matthew laughed lightly as he slide between Alfred's cheeks and began to glide between them. He loved the heat and the closeness and the feeling of Alfred's back pulled against his chest.

Alfred let out a soft 'Oh!'

"But Mattie I want..."

Matthew cut him off, picking up the pace of his thrusts and the hand working on Alfred's straining erection.

"Have a little patience, eh?"

Alfred moaned and couldn't argue when Matthew's hand felt so good. His movements were perfect, his hand was so tight around him that all Alfred could do was arch his back and thrust his hips forward.

Matthew bent his head and bit Alfred's shoulder. He had cut Alfred off deliberately so he could let his incomplete sentence lend itself to his fantasies.

"But Mattie I want _you to fuck me, to spill your seed inside of me, to fill me until my face flushes pink and my eyes water and I feel like I can't take it anymore."_

"God, yes, Alfred, yes." Matthew shut his eyes tight picturing the scene, his own words unknowingly fulfilling Alfred's own fantasies as he came across his southern twin's back prompting Alfred to spill himself over Matthew's hand.

"Matthew..." Alfred turned around finally to face him fully. Both their faces were flushed, brows dampened with sweat, blond hair disheveled and blue eyes hazy. Alfred gave him a sweet, probing kiss.

"I'm so glad you're with me. I'd be so lonely in this world without you."

Matthew stroked his cheek and smiled. "I know. I'm glad I have you too."

"Well duh," Alfred teased "you can't be a side kick without a hero."

This earned him a gentle smack on the head that he snorted at.

"Come on then, Hero." Matthew yawned. "Let's clean up and go to bed. I don't want an angry phone call from the President if you oversleep and miss your flight."

**END A/N: You guys have no idea how hard it was for me to write that smut. Ever since I mentioned Fay Wray in Al's fantasy, I was suddenly overcome by these vivid images of Alfred on top of the Empire State Building clutching Matthew and being generally beligerant while Matthew weeps "I swear he's not violent! He's just misunderstood!"**

**Well, you all know the iconic scene from King Kong. GOD it was hard to focus with that in mind. I just kept cracking up. I may have to write that. Fay Wray was born in Alberta by the way!**


	12. Let's Play Telephone

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews! For some reason the reply function has been messing up on me or i'd respond! The story is getting close to finished but I have a few more chapters to establish their relationship and take them through a little conflict before we're finished. **

**Man, It's hard not to write everything France and Canada say to each other in French...but I restrained myself. I know reading too many translations must be annoying. I've been thinking of dropping the Hs at the beginning of words when I write Francis's accent but I don't know if it would be too much or too hard to read?**

**Translations:**

**Hélas: Alas**

**est vraiment du type jaloux, non?: is really the jealous type, no?**

**Angleterre: England**

**Chapter 12: Let's Play Telephone**

Alfred groaned at the sound of the alarm clock breaking into his peaceful sleep. He slammed the snooze button but begrudgingly turned it off. He didn't to wake Mattie and there was no time for sleeping in.

"Al?"

Oh. Of course. Matthew would wake up if a fleck of dust were dislodged. He was just the opposite of Alfred that way.

"Al..." The sleepy voice repeated. "You're crushing me."

Well that certainly woke Alfred up.

"Huh? Whut?" He sat up and took in his surroundings.

Somehow he had ended up laying flat across Matthew's back. His twin's arm was currently stretched across the bed presumably reaching out for the alarm clock.

Matthew was gasping for air now that Alfred's weight had been lifted off of him and trying to flex his poor arm.

Alfred laughed. "Dude! How did that even happen?"

Matthew glared. "I was trying to turn the alarm off but you didn't seem to like me moving very much. I believe you muttered something about annexation and rolled over on me."

_Oh shit. _Alfred thought. _Now he knows about my kink._

"Honestly Alfred..." Matthew continued. "That alarm was going off for almost an hour. If you don't hurry you'll miss your plane."

"Holy Hamburgers!" Alfred suddenly took notice of the time the clock was reading. "I've got to go!"

Matthew sat up in bed while Alfred hurried to dress himself.

"Good thing you didn't pack much, eh?"

Alfred had pulled on his suit in record time and was back in bed leaning over Matthew.

He cupped his face. "Don't bother getting up babe. I know my way out."

He kissed Matthew deeply not caring that neither of them had brushed their teeth.

Matthew smiled at Alfred as he pulled away. "Good luck and brush your teeth on the plane!"

Alfred saluted him on his way out of the bedroom "You got it!"

Matthew listened to the sound of Alfred thundering down the hallway and fumbling with the lock.

He had a little more time he could spend in bed before he had to get up for the day.

He lay back against his pillow and smiled. If someone had told him last week that he'd be romantically involved with Alfred he would've laughed it off. If they'd told him he'd enjoy it as thoroughly as he'd enjoyed it last night...well, he probably would've been too shocked to say anything. He just hoped the good feelings would last and that he wasn't being stupidly trusting again.

For now, he'd just have to take it on faith. Alfred had been up to visit him a lot lately, Matthew mused,

maybe it would be nice to go and visit Al in the States soon?

He knew his brother's crippling hatred of winter would have him packing his bags and moving to his California home soon. Matthew had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Alfred that there was more to do with winter than hibernating but Alfred had spent the entire ski trip by the fire guzzling hot chocolate and whining like a child about the cold.

Matthew smiled at the memories. Alfred could be pretty cute, not that he ever meant to be.

Across town at the airport Alfred was having his own thoughts about the night before and blushing as he boarded his plane.

_'Well,' _He thought _'that certainly went...heroically.' _

Of course, he'd wanted to roll Matthew over and ravish him but he thought it was probably smart to let Matthew take things at his own pace given how hesitant he'd been about this relationship in the first place. He had been surprised at how forward the Canadian was. He tried not to think about that too much because it made his gut clench and his heart sink. He wanted to keep thinking of Matthew as shy, reserved, innocent and he certainly didn't want to think about him having _international relations _outside of what went on between the two of them.

Alfred knew that was silly and maybe even a little wrong but he couldn't help himself. It was just in his nature to be a little selfish. If he wanted something he wanted it all.

Later that day, near lunch time, Matthew took a break from his work to make a phone call. Officially, he was supposed to be calling France for diplomatic reasons. Personally, his motives were a little less political.

Francis answered on the third ring.

"Allô?" The crisp Frenchman purred into the phone.

Matthew poured a touch of maple into his coffee and replied.

"Papa. It's Matthieu. I suppose you know why I'm calling?"

He was greeted with Francis's typical chuckle. He sounded very pleased with himself and Matthew sighed. This was going to be like reasoning with a madman but, lord help him, he'd try.

"Onhonhon! Of course mon cher, no thanks are necessary. I take it your date went well? Don't blame me for his garish red shirt...I told him to wear zee blue but, hélas, you know États-Unis..."

"Non! Francis..." It was probably best just to cut to the chase. "I don't care how you dressed him, but that basket..."

The scandalized gasp on the other end of the line reminded Matthew to never make light of fashion when speaking to Francis.

"Don't care?" The suddenly irrate Frenchman stuttered. "You would rather he showed up in his usual scruffy attire? Looking like he just pulled himself out of a plane crash and wearing zhat bomber jacket that he wears all zhe time, even in summer? I know it must smell like the lining of a whore's corset at the end of a busy night..."

"Ack!"

Matthew wanted to stop that idea from elaborating, and quickly. If anyone else had slammed Alfred's appearance like that he would've been annoyed but he knew it was just Francis's way and the Frenchman didn't really mean it, not if the way he acted with England was any indicator.

"No, I don't mean...the suit was fine, okay? But how could you just leave that basket on my doorstep like that?"

Francis's response was automatic and his voice dripped sympathy

"Oh Matthieu, I understand completely!"

Matthew was taken aback and set down the coffee he had been raising to his lips.

"You...you do?" _No way. _

"But of course! I should've stayed and helped you two darling children to learn the intimate workings of the treasures I provided. You know big brother would have been happy to but I am afraid your new loverboy est vraiment du type jaloux, non?"

On hearing Francis's response, Matthew was suddenly glad he had chosen not to take a drink of his coffee, he surely would've spit it out. Compared to what Francis had just suggested the idea of his neighbors thinking he was some kind of sex fiend really wasn't so bad.

"PAPA! You're impossible!"

"Moi?" Francis sounded genuinely surprised. "Non, it is zhat boyfriend of yours America you need to concern yourself with. I remember one time I was at zhe bar with him and I remember mentioning how

lovely I find Montréal and Québec and he called me a frog and told me to 'shut it' can you ever imagine such a travesty? He assaulted my beautiful ears. He takes too much after zhat nasty Angleterre."

"What?" Matthew blushed. "When was this?"

"A few years ago," Matthew could visualize Francis waving his hand dismissively, possibly while holding a glass of wine. The Frenchman snickered and continued. "Honestly Matthieu. You are so cute!

Our Alfred has had a flame for you since the 1920s at least. Probably earlier. Who can say?"

Francis trailed off probably distracted by one of the many attractive secretaries he insisted on hiring to stave off boredom at work.

"That's...no way." Matthew replied glad Francis couldn't see his blush over the phone. Had Alfred really wanted to be with him that long? Francis must be reading too much into it. Francis would see romance anywhere, if a priest stopped to bless him Francis would probably take it as a come on.

Well, they had really best get back on topic Matthew thought as he looked at his watch. He wanted to have time to eat before getting back to work.

"Look, just don't leave things like that out where my neighbors can see, okay? Better yet, just don't leave them at all alright?"

"Oui, oui, whatever you say!" Matthew could hear him flirting with someone named Sophie when he pulled away from the phone. It only increased Matthew's desire to get off the phone quickly.

As the two exchanged hurried goodbyes, miles away in D.C Alfred was receiving a call of his own.

"Yello?" He kicked his legs up on his desk and took a long sip of cola. "America speaking."

His eyes brightened up as the man on the other end announced himself.

"Seargent Peterson!" Alfred beamed. "Any news? How're my babies comin' along?"

Alfred played with his straw and listened intently to the reply. "Really?" He just barely contained a giggle remembering to act a little more formal when speaking to subordinates. "They can chew through steel? That's great, man! But let's not stop there. It's called Project TITANIUM Beaver, you know."

He frowned at what the man said next. "What do you mean General Micheals has been expressing some concerns about outfitting the Canadians with steel chewing beavers?"

Seargent Peterson mumbled something about national security and Alfred banged a fist on his desk.

"They're Canadians for god's sake! What does he think they're going to do, start a war?" He laughed "They'll probably use them as some kind of snow plow honestly."

Alfred's brow furrowed as the Seargent replied. "Well I don't give a damn if General Micheals thinks it's a waste of military funding to breed a beaver cavalry that's going to be used to break ice. They're our allies and if I want to breed them a beaver cavalry I god damn well will breed them a beaver cavalry! And the next time the General feels like being insubordinate to the U.S of fucking A he can come and complain to me himself."

Alfred huffed before changing the subject and putting an end to the Seargant's stuttering.

"Now, let's talk size. How big are they?" He nodded at the reply. "Good, good, it's a start...but we're going to have to more than double their size if they're going to be able to ride on them."

At the seargant's response Alfred sat bolt upright and made shushing noises into the phone.

"No you fool! The beavers! We're going to have to more than double the size of the beavers! Never speak of Project Fat Canada again. We canceled that in the 80s and no one can ever find out. Do you understand?"

Alfred finished his phone call a little annoyed with the dissent (and really really wishing he could just forget that Project Fat Canada had ever happened. The 80s had been an interesting decade.) but over all pleased with the way Project Titanium Beaver was coming along. He proceeded to dictate his work and dick around on his cellphone.

When 5 o'clock finally came Alfred hurried home, eager to taunt his skeptical alien friend with the news of his success.

He barged into his house, slamming the door behind him. He shrugged off his coat and headed for the kitchen. He fixed himself a sandwich before making his way to the living room where he could hear Tony playing video games.

"Yo dude, what were you saying before I left? Something about how it's "never gonna happen"?"

Alfred spoke smugly sliding next to Tony and watching his little gray friend fight zombies.

Tony ignored him, preferring to focus intently on the zombies he was currently decapitating with a wrench.

"Well it happened!" Alfred went on, beaming.

"I won't share my fucking room with the bear." Tony replied. "oh, and limey called."

"What?" Alfred scratched his head and swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. "Whats he want?"

Tony shrugged. "No fucking message."

Alfred glanced at his watch. It was only 10pm in London. He could probably reach Artie on his cell.

He dialed the number and waited patiently as it rang.

"Alfred do you know what time it is, you idiot?" Arthur snapped as he answered the phone.

"Hello to you too." Alfred huffed "and I know for a fact it is 10pm."

"Exactly." Arthur bit back. "Some of us are responsible and prioritize work over late night partying! I was just preparing for bed."

"Bullshit bro," Alfred retorted. " You can't pull that on me. Do you just get so drunk you forget who you do your late night partying with?"

"That...that's on the weekends!" Arthur replied.

"Whatever. Sounds like someone is getting old."

"Going to bed at 10pm does not make me old!"

Alfred stifled a laugh. God he loved getting Arthur riled up. "It so does. What did you call me for anyway?"

"France called me earlier." Arthur sounded none too pleased about this fact. "He tells me you're quite serious about courting Canada."

Alfred couldn't hold it in anymore. He broke out into peals of laughter. "Dude! You just called it _courting_. You are soooo old it's not even funny anymore!"

"So i'm to take that as confirmation that you do intend to court Canada?" Arthur replied pointedly ignoring the jab.

Alfred puffed his chest out and let the confidence show in his voice. "I think we're a little past the courting stage, old man."

Arthur sputtered in indignation on the other end of the line. "You had best not be!"

Alfred snorted "What's it to you?"

"Hmmph." Alfred could imagine Arthur straightening up preparing a lecture. "You are not allowed to date anyone in the commonwealth. You're a bad influence."

_'Oh no he didn't!' _America's face took on a look of determination.

"_Not allowed?" _He seethed. "Oh whatever!" He continued on in a very poor impersonation of his English friend. "Blah blah blah I'm England I'm stuffy and overprotective and still think of everyone as a colony! I like to try and bossy people around but I'm not really going to do anything about it except try to poison them with my shit cooking."

"At least I _have _my own national cuisine instead of bastardizing everyone else's by deep frying it and piling on copious amounts of cheese!" Arthur fumed.

"Oh come on." Alfred slumped his shoulders. "Why do you even care? You mistake him for me every time you see him and you don't even remember him half the time."

Arthur didn't even try to deny that last bit. "Well so do you!"

"Nuh-uh!" Alfred replied. "I so remember him at least 95% of the time!"

"I won't have you contaminating him with your daftness!"

The bickering continued for what felt to Alfred like hours until he finally cut Arthur off with a quick interjection of "Dammit dude, I'm dating Canada and that's final!" before hanging up on him.

_'Sheesh.' _He sighed and slumped back against the couch. _'Figures England would go all overprotective father on me. Of course, France is all "Spread the love, hon hon oui oui.".'_

When Alfred felt his phone vibrate indicating he had a text, he very nearly chucked it against the wall until he noticed the picture announcing who it was from.

_'Mattie!' _His face lit up in a smile before crumpling into a frown. _'I hope he's not texting because Arthur called him too.' _

But no, it was good news.

**Are you free next weekend? I can come down**

Alfred quickly typed back.

**Hell yes I'm Free. Land of the! Lol. Jk. I'd love to see you. **

Alfred smiled. Things were looking up again! Hell yes he was dating Canada and there was not a damn thing anyone was gonna do about it.


	13. Suck My Timbits

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! Oh and guess what? They have a Bacon-Maple Sunday at Denny's. No joke. I was out for breakfast and saw it advertised and all I could think was "Aaw yeah, Bitches! Americest, it's what's for breakfast!" I may need to tone down the fandom for awhile, lol! This chapter is almost entirely CanAme bickering and sexy times. I hope no one minds the lack of plot.**

**...**

**Sorry for the long A/N but here is some comic book trivia that will be important for you to know in this chapter:**

**Captain Canuck - an independently produced Canadian comic book hero from the 1970s**

**Nelvana - refers to Nelvana of the Northern Lights one of the first superheroines. You know Nelvana the animation company with the cute polar bear? Named after her!**

**Superman - You all know Superman, but did you know he was created by Jerry Spiegel (American) and Joe Shuster (Canadian)? Yes. In my head-cannon this makes him a CanAme love child. Screw Kryptonian heritage I know where he really got that super strength...and maybe Canada can secretly fly or something? Who knows. Now I'm bummed out that one of Superman's powers isn't invisibility. That'd be too perfect. **

**Wolverine - Marvel comics character born in Alberta trained by the Canadian military. You all know Wolverine ^_^. I'd like to do a Hetalia AU based off the relationship of Wolverine and Captain America. Maybe a project for a later date. Wolverine!Mattie would be SO OOC**

**but I'd love him anyway (*cough* in all the wrong ways *cough*). Captain America!Alfred on the other hand...maybe not so OOC.**

**Guardian - leader of Alpha Flight Marvel's all-Canadian superhero team. He's sort of like the Canadian version of Captain America and people get him confused with Captain Canuck because their Canadian Flag themed costumes are similar. **

**Department H - in the Alpha Flight/ X-men universe Department H is the secret branch of the Canada's Department of Defence that deals with superheros.**

**...**

**Chapter 13: Suck My Timbits**

The weekend could not come soon enough.

For some reason the lack of Matthew in his daily routine was starting to grate on Alfred.

His days invariably followed the same pattern:

_Wake up_

_Shower_

_Get Mcdonald's_

_Receive annoying text from Matt bashing Starbucks_

_Threaten to kick him in his Timbits_

_Go to work_

_Get Mcdonald's_

_Come home_

_Play video games with Tony_

_Get Mcdonalds_

_Prank call England_

_Eat ice cream_

_Exchange semi-erotic texts with Mattie_

_Masturbate in the shower_

_Go to bed feeling lonely_

To the north, Matthew was having a similar problem and wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He missed Al when he went away but wasn't in the habit of pining about it. Yes, things were certainly changing. He was starting to miss the little annoying things Alfred did, and that's when Matthew realized he had it bad.

He was starting to get bored with his daily schedule:

_Wake up_

_Shower_

_Stare forlornly at pancake skillet_

_Feed Kumajiro_

_Go to Tim Horton's for coffee and a doughnut_

_Smirk at the inherent superiority over Starbucks_

_Text this to Alfred_

_Laugh at angry response_

_Go to Work_

_Have a healthy lunch_

_Come home_

_Watch Hockey with Kumajiro_

_Cook dinner_

_Go over e-mails, delete sex advice from France_

_Read_

_Receive corny, would-be erotic text from Alfred talking about eating his "Canadian Bacon"_

_Laugh_

_End up masturbating about it in the shower anyway_

_Go to bed feeling lonely_

So when the weekend finally came Alfred was whistling a cheerful tune as he left his apartment to pick Matthew up at the airport.

When he arrived it was easy to spot Matthew's bright red hoodie when he was surrounded by a mass of people in black and grey overcoats.

"Mattie~!" Alfred's hand shot up in the air waving wildly. Matthew smiled and returned the gesture with a small wave of his own as he made his way to Alfred through the crowd of people queuing for taxis.

When they reached each other Alfred pulled Matthew into a bone-crushing hug and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Who's my cute little Canuck?"

"Alfred~!" Matthew groaned attempting to go invisible very aware of the people packed closely around them. "We're in public!"

"You are!" Alfred chimed completely ignoring him.

Alfred took Matthew's bag and slung it over his own shoulder. He linked his arm with Mattie's and fairly dragged him to his car.

"I can't believe you drive in D.C!" Matthew chided him as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Alfred snorted. "I won't be enslaved to a subway schedule. I'm a free man!"

"_You're killing us all._"Matthew didn't want to argue this early into his visit but it honestly seemed inevitable every time they got together.

Alfred laughed. "Chillax bro! I'm working on a car right now that runs on corn oil AND fights crime while you're sleeping."

Matthew shook his head and hid a smile behind his hand. "You're unbelievable."

Alfred sped out of the parking lot. "Gotta have it all baby."

"That's kind of your motto for life isn't it?" Matthew asked.

"Hell yeah," Al grinned. "that and _E Pluribus Unum_."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Your ego never fails."

"Aaw," Al was totally undeterred by the criticism instead he reached over and pinched Matthew's cheek. "Out of many you're my only one!"

"_Oh my god!_" Matthew pulled away and buried his face in his hands while Alfred laughed loudly at the blush on his face. "_just...oh my god!_"

"It's way better than _From Sea to Sea_ anyway."

"Shut up!" Matthew smacked him on the arm. "Is not!"

Alfred laughed. "You're such a hippie, dude! You're obsessed with nature. You have a leaf on your flag man, a leaf! And your motto is all about the sea and stuff and your obsessed with, like, beavers and moose and shit."

Matthew held his chin up proudly. Why had he been missing Alfred again?

"You say that like it's a bad thing but just wait when your pollution has driven all your wildlife off and devastated your land you'll feel differently. When Minnesota has to get a new state bird because you've killed off all the loons don't come asking me for help!"

Alfred pushed him playfully. "I think you're all the Great Northern Loon I can handle thanks."

"You think i'm the crazy one?" Matthew would've pushed him back except Al's increasingly reckless driving on their way to his apartment was worrying him. "Let's take a vote of that at the next world meeting, eh?"

Alfred scoffed. "We could try but they'd all just be like "is America crazier than _who?_" ."

Matthew sulked. "Low blow bro. Not that they'd even need to know who in order to vote correctly since you're crazier than anyone."

"I take that as a compliment!" Alfred grinned.

"You would." Matthew pouted.

The two continued bickering all the way to Alfred's apartment, while parking, and in the elevator heading up to his floor.

As soon as they got into the apartment with the door closed Matthew pushed Alfred hard against the wall kissing him passionately. Alfred went along with it checking his strength and letting Matthew play the aggressor.

"Ooh violent!" He mocked "That's not very Canadian of you is it, _eh_?"

Matthew growled and nipped Alfred's ear.

"Stop it with the Canadian Jokes!"

Alfred squealed and pretended to be distressed. "What Canadian jokes? I don't know what you're talking _aboot_!" Matthew slammed his hips against Alfred's and hissed

"Can it, Yankee!"

Alfred taunted him with the maturity of a 2 year old

"Make me!" He stuck out his tongue.

"I will!" Matthew forced his own tongue in Alfred's mouth in retaliation

coaxing a moan from his southern brother.

"Oh Canada~!" Alfred ground against Matthew "I should've known you were a pervert from the minute I heard your national anthem!"

"_Oh say I can see_ how much you like it." Matthew purred against Alfred's neck.

Alfred chuckled and shook his head wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist.

"God I missed you."

"Needy." Matthew scolded ignoring the hypocrisy of the statement. Al's ego could go without knowing how much he missed him. He probably knew anyway.

"It's only been a week."

"A week is a long time!" Alfred protested while running his hands down Matthew's back.

"Someone needs to teach you how to take things slow." Matthew spoke softly against Alfred's ear as he slipped a hand beneath his shirt.

Alfred was surprised by the sudden feeling of Matthew's hand on the bare flesh of his chest. It still amused him the way his typically timid Matt didn't hesitate to initiate their contact.

He supposed it was true what they said about the quiet ones.

Al threaded his fingers into Matthew's hair and grinned. "You gonna be the one to do it?"

"Who else has the patience to deal with you?" Matthew asked with a smile before latching on to the sensitive curve of Alfred's neck and gripping his hip bones tightly with both hands.

"Hmm" Alfred pretended to think. "I dunno. Maybe Kiku, he's a pretty laid back dude."

Matt frowned and pulled back from Alfred's neck. "Trying to make me jealous, eh?"

Alfred pulled him closer. "That depends. Is it working?"

_'Maybe a little.' _Matthew pouted. "Of course not. Who could be jealous over a spoiled brat like you?" He smirked and poked Alfred playfully in the side.

"Hey," Alfred nipped him playfully. "You're only allowed to call me spoiled when you have pancakes in your hands and I don't see any pancakes."

"No." Matthew teased sliding his hands down Alfred's back and squeezing his ass. "They're a bit busy right now."

Alfred laughed.

"What?" Matthew demanded.

"You're just too cute!" Alfred smiled. "Especially when you're trying to be aggressive."

Matthew blushed. "I'll show you _trying_!"

"Ah!" Alfred yelped as Matthew sharply pinched his nipple.

"What the fuck?" Alfred demanded. "What is your obsession with my nipples? What's next? Will you be hooking them up to a car battery? Is that it Mattie? Are you a closet sadist?"

Matthew laughed and hooked an arm around Alfred's waist. "Would you shut up and kiss me? How is this relationship ever going to work if we can't stop taking shots at each other long enough to make out?"

"How is it going to work if you murder my nipples you..."

Al's words were cut short by Matthew's demanding lips.

It was hard to continue arguing when the feeling of Matthew's hard cock pressing against his own through all too constricting jeans was making him weak in the knees.

Al reached a hand down to stroke Matt's erection. His fingers danced over denim and caused Matthew's heart to quicken. He loved the feeling of Alfred's hands on him.

Matthew pressed against the hand that was groping him and plunged his tongue deeper into Alfred's mouth, loving the way his soft lips parted for him.

"Mattie," Alfred squeezed him suddenly causing Matthew to moan. "Let's get out of the doorway. Why don't we take your things to the bedroom?"

"That's the best idea you've had this decade." Matt replied, his hands on Alfred's waist and his blue eyes darkened with lust.

Alfred felt his cock throb in response to the look Matthew was giving him. He loved this side of Matthew. He loved it and didn't know how he'd gone so long without it.

Alfred slid his hand into the back pocket of Matthew's jeans as they made their way across the apartment to Al's bedroom. He was thankful Tony had the good sense to make himself scarce. The last thing he needed was to run into the foul mouthed alien while he was sporting a full blown erection.

The minute Alfred dropped his bag next to the bed Matthew was on him again.

Alfred stripped Matthew of his coat as they kissed and slid his hands under Matthew's sweater feeling the definition of his muscles and the soft flesh that covered them. He was smooth and warm and inviting and Alfred felt himself harden from the touch alone.

Matthew tugged on Alfred's sweater forcing him to stop touching him long enough to lift his arms so Matt could pull it off over his head. Alfred didn't know where or how far this was going but he loved it and knew he was along for the ride all the way. He hurriedly slipped out of his sneakers and Matthew did the same.

Matt tossed aside his own sweater and soon it was all pale bare flesh pressed against tan and soft flat stomachs and rippling abdominals lips locked and tongues teasing as twin bodies entwined falling back against the bed.

Alfred's hands massaged Matthew's back as he moved to kiss, lick, and suck on the nipples Alfred had accused him of abusing.

"_Mattie...Mattie..._" the talkative American whimpered as Matthew stimulated his sensitive pink nubs.

Matthew loved the sound of Alfred whimpering his name. It felt right. It felt like his prerogative to have Alfred underneath him like this moaning for him.

Making the world's preeminent superpower arch his back and beg for it? That kind of thing could go to a guy's head.

Matthew still had some French in him and he knew how to use it. He tried not to think about that right now because, frankly, thinking about Francis while touching Alfred was starting to piss him off.

Oh no, he refused to get jealous. That was Alfred's shtick.

Matthew moved his hands to Alfred's zipper preparing to free his erection. Alfred inhaled sharply as he watched Matthew undo his pants and pull out his cock.

Matthew loved the sight of it hot, hard, and already wet with precum. Alfred was so sensitive that he seemed to keen at the slightest touch. Matt supposed Alfred's hectic life left him little free time to pursue his pleasures. Not to mention that Alfred's childish nature and residual puritan leanings, Matthew knew, led him to be more monogamous than Hollywood would have you believe. It wasn't that Matthew was the type to bang them left and right, far from it, but it had probably been longer since Alfred had been with anyone. That thought was darkly satisfying and Matthew fully intended to exploit it. He loved the sounds he could draw out of Alfred.

"Oh god Mattie are you gonna...ah!" Alfred gasped as Matthew wrapped his hand tightly around the base of his cock and slipped the head into his mouth. Matthew teased him by swirling his tongue around the tip and licking the underside.

Matthew pulled back long enough to divest Alfred of his pants and underwear. Alfred was going to protest the fact that Matt still had his pants on but the Canadian got the jump on him before he could even open his mouth.

Instead of the intended complaint the only thing that came out was a muffled cry of pleasure as the underside of his cock slid along Matthew's tongue and deep within his mouth.

When Matthew straightened his throat and slid Alfred's cock over the threshold Alfred, ironically, was the one making a chocking noise.

His toes curled and his head flew back involuntarily.

_'Oh Fuck,' _He thought. _'This is not how this was supposed to go!'_

Where was his blushing virginal Matthew who had slipped to his knees so many times in Alfred's dreams and taken his cock in hand asking shyly _"Are you sure it'll fit?"_

Matthew wasn't sure if Alfred was actually trying to say something through his strangled noises of passion as he started to rhythmically deep throat him while massaging his balls but he thought he heard something about "Too cute" and "False advertising" .

When he felt Alfred's hips begin to buck and feared he was close to climax Matthew drew back and squeezed the base of Alfred's cock causing his southern twin's eyes to snap open as he fixed him with a shocked look.

"Wha...M-Mattie...What?" He demanded his brain refusing to function properly as all his blood had run south. He'd been so close, so close, and it had felt so good!

Matthew smirked. "I told you I was going to teach you to take things slow, didn't I?"

Alfred's lower lip trembled. "You wouldn't!"

Matthew squeezed him tighter causing Alfred to let out a small hiss of pain. "That's villainous!"

"Patience is a virtue." Matthew shook a finger at him as Alfred tried to buck up into his impossibly tight grip.

"Bro If you were anyone else," Alfred glowered "I'd bomb you for this."

Matthew laughed. "We're just going to have to break you of that habit, eh!"

"F-fuck you!" Alfred stuttered as Matthew loosened his grip slightly leaned down to lick the tip of his cock. When Matthew continued his ministrations at a painfully slow pace, Alfred grew frustrated and balled his fists around the sheets whining "You can't fucking orgasm denial the United States of America!"

"I can't?" Matthew smirked pulling off Al's erection with a resounding 'pop!' "I'm pretty sure I just did."

"I oughta flip you over and...and..and..." Alfred started to get fuzzy on the details of just what he'd planned to do to Matthew when the northern nation slid his cock back in his mouth and ran his tongue from the base to the tip.

Alfred was pretty sure his face was as red as Russia but he was willing to bet communism was never as hot as what Matthew was doing to him right now.

The way his soft warm lips wrapped tight around his cock brushing over them with each thrust in and out was enough to undo Alfred never mind what he was doing with his hand.

In fact what _was_ he doing with his hand? Alfred didn't know but it felt better than a warm slice of apple pie after hitting a home run and kissing your high school sweetheart all rolled into one.

"_Matthew, Matthew..._" It was all he could do to repeat Matthew's name like a mantra to keep himself from running off at the mouth and making all kinds of mushy exclamations, declarations, and promises that would probably spoil the mood.

He was pretty certain the way Matthew was teasing him with his tongue sucking him in with his hot wet mouth and massaging his balls with his large soft hands had him willing to say anything.

Except...

when he felt so close to spilling the whole Mississippi down his throat Matthew pulled back and taunted him.

"Say Please."

He could say just about anything, except that.

Twice! Twice! The little Maple bastard had done this to him twice.

"I'm going to kill you Canada," Alfred growled intentionally using Matthew's formal name. Goddammit, he needed to come so bad it was painful.

"I'm serious. We're going to war."

"Bad." Matthew pinched his inner thigh causing Alfred to jerk back and unintentionally rub against the tight grip of Matthew's hand only further exciting him. "Don't joke about war. Now don't you want to come?"

He accentuated his question by resuming the movements of his hand and mouth and causing Alfred to keen happily.

_'For fuck's sake,'_ Alfred thought _'If I didn't love him so much...'_

His face was flushed, his heart was beating too fast, and he was so ready he just needed a little more.

He just wanted to wrap his hands in Matthew's beautiful golden hair, look into those blue eyes so close to his own, and spill himself inside him.

"Dammit dude," Alfred moaned. "Don't tease me. You know I do."

Matthew pulled back pumping Alfred with his skillful hand while he cupped, licked and sucked on Al's sensitive balls.

"Ask nicely." Matthew prompted him.

Alfred swallowed his pride but god was Matthew ever going to pay for this one day.

"Mattie _please_."

That was all Matthew needed to hear to bring Alfred to completion.

He took him deep and fast and let him come straight down his throat as his southern twin arched his back, let his eyes flutter closed, and collapsed with a broken cry.

"Are you feeling relaxed now, baby?" Matthew asked licking his lips and massaging Alfred's thighs as Al lay back panting from the force of his orgasm.

"God yes." Alfred turned his head and whimpered as Nantucket grazed the pillow. Every bit of him was gloriously exhausted and hyper sensitive. Had he been mad at Matthew about something? He couldn't remember he felt like his brain had turned into a giant pile of sexually satisfied mush.

_'Good.'_ Matthew thought to himself with a smile as he moved to situate himself between Alfred's legs. _'because I'm about to fuck you until you can't walk.'_

Alfred was still too high from what had just happened to notice or care as Matthew spread his legs and let his hands brush reverently over Alfred's warm golden skin.

Only once Matthew had reached over into his bag and pulled out a tube of lubrication and asked

"Are you alright with this, Alfie?"

did Alfred finally wake up from his daze and take notice of the position he was in and the large, hard cock that was pressed up against his own still semi-hard member.

"Woah woah woah." Alfred put up his hands. "I'll, uh, I'll return the favor man but I don't, uh,I don't do that."

Matthew quirked an eyebrow. "You don't what? Have anal sex?"

It made Matthew's stomach churn to mention Francis but it was relevant so he did.

"I remember the revolution Al. I know you were with Francis at the time."

Alfred blushed furiously and turned his head away "Well yeah I mean I have anal sex, sure, but I don't, you know,I don't...I'm the hero, dammit!"

Matthew had supposed he'd encounter a problem like this with Alfred. He would just have to be patient and reason with him and they'd get through it.

"So you don't bottom because you're the hero, right?"

Alfred nodded.

"So what kind of message is that sending me if I bottom all the time? That I'm somehow lesser?"

It's not that he wasn't willing to bottom for Al, he was, but he had to make it clear to Alfred (and early on before they became set in their ways) that he expected this to be on equal footing, and more over, it was time Alfred learned that there was nothing emasculating about what Matthew was asking him to do.

"No dude!" Alfred replied. He would never want to make Matthew feel that way. "That's not what I'm trying to say at all!"

Alfred remember his early years and his first sexual encounters. He'd been so full of fear then fear of being dominated of falling back under the thumb of yet another foreign power. He'd had to assert himself in new and stressful ways. The French Empire then had been so powerful and it would've been easy for Alfred , being younger and weaker at the time, to have been pulled in by Francis's magnetism. So he'd refused to let him top and only agreed to a physical relationship on his terms. Which Francis, in a gesture of extreme kindness and understanding for Alfred's delicate emotional situation, had agreed to.

Unfortunately this had done nothing to abate his fear of being dominated or of incorrectly linking this fear with sexual position. Of course, It never occurred to him that there could be anything wrong with him topping all the time. Probably as a result of his only previous experience being with Francis who was much older and much more powerful then so he'd never had to consider it.

He stared up into patient blue irises and remember that this was his twin he was talking about the nation who was closest to him geographically, culturally, and emotionally.

He was with Matthew now.

It was Matthew asking him for this and their dynamic was completely different. Matthew was not a new friend, as Francis had been, he was an old friend. His _oldest _friend.

Matthew was not and had never been an empire. Matthew wasn't like other countries. Alfred could trust Matthew. Matthew didn't want to hurt him. Matthew would never want to hurt him.

Alfred took a deep breath and came to the realization that if he couldn't do this with Matthew then he couldn't do it with anyone.

"Then why don't you want to do this?" Matthew pressed.

Alfred felt sick in his stomach but looked up at Matthew.

_'It's okay. It's just Mattie. You can be honest with him. You can be vulnerable with him.' _

"Look man," his voice cracked a little. "I'm just a bit scared, okay?"

Matthew leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. "It's going to be fine Al." He stroked his cheek. "You know I'll take care of you."

Alfred bit back the urge to insist that he didn't need fucking taking care of, that he was the one who took care of people, because deep down he knew he did want to do this with Matthew (and with only Matthew) and that his words were reassuring.

Matthew on the other hand was much less calm than the confident aura he tried to project for Alfred's sake. He had topped before and bottomed and was confident in his ability to make sure Alfred was properly prepared and enjoyed himself as much as possible his first time but he was unprepared for seeing his cocky, powerful brother so vulnerable and unsure.

It was unnerving but it was also intoxicating to know that of all the nations on earth he was the only one Alfred would trust to penetrate him. Matthew couldn't deny from the heat that pooled in his stomach how good it felt to know that. It felt good. It felt really fucking good.

_'Suck that, France.' _Matthew thought before feeling very petty. He needed to keep the moral high ground on this issue. If he let Al think giving into jealousy was acceptable things did not bode well for Cuba or, god forbid, someone he'd actually been with like The Netherlands or New Zealand.

It was best if Alfred never found out about his previous boyfriends.

After stripping himself of his pants (and earning an appreciative noise from Al in the process)

Matthew began by coating his hand lightly in lubrication and bringing Alfred back to full hardness.

His own cock throbbed painfully but he could be patient. The knowledge that he would soon be inside Alfred for the first time was enough to sustain him.

Alfred frowned slightly as Matthew's first finger entered him with some difficulty. It was a strange sensation, not entirely unpleasant, just odd.

Matthew began to work him with gentle penetrative motions and curling movements.

"You're so tight!" Matthew groaned, thrusting forward a little to rub his cock against the sheets impatiently. It was true. Alfred was obviously unaccustomed to this and he had a vice-like grip on Matthew's finger.

"I could call my office if you want" Alfred joked "and ask them to relax border security."

The light laughter that escaped him helped Alfred to relax and allowed Matthew to gently insert a second finger causing Alfred's brow to furrow at the stinging, painful, sensation. Matthew worked to soothe him by adding more lubrication and stroking his sensitive insides causing the pain to be tainted with sudden bursts of pleasure that slowly overpowered and erased the pain.

When Matthew suddenly found the spot inside Alfred that had him clutching Matthew's shoulders and gasping his name he looked up with a smile before adding a third finger and replied.

"I think we'll be getting back to the days before passports soon, eh?"

Matthew took the noises of pleasure coming from Alfred's throat as assent.

Alfred shuddered involuntarily as Matthew stroked that sweet spot inside of him.

There was still a little residual fear in him but it was obvious from the way his legs spread wider thoughtlessly and his hips moved enthusiastically that he wanted this.

No he wanted more than this. He wanted far more than the three fingers that were currently filling, pleasuring, and preparing him.

"Mattie," He ran a hand through the northern nation's hair and whined. "I want more!"

"Don't you always?" Matthew joked leaning forward to nuzzle Al's cheek affectionately. "But are you sure?"

Alfred nodded. There was no going back at this point and he wanted Matthew all of him.

Matthew let his eyes wander over Alfred's body sprawled provocatively below him as he coated his eager erection in lube. Even like this Alfred excuded charisma and Matthew willingly let himself be charmed by it. He positioned himself at Alfred's entrance and took his southern brother firmly by the hips and watched Alfred's expression intently as he slowly pushed himself inside and gave in to both their carnal desires.

He watched as Alfred's kissable lips parted in a barely audible hiss of pain. He watched as his eyes widened at the feeling of being stretched in ways he never had before. He watched every flicker of emotion across Alfred's face and memorized it as if he was entitled to it as if it were his due a long time coming.

"Are you alright, love?" Matthew asked leaning in for a kiss.

Predictably Alfred brushed him off and laughed. "Of course!"

It was mostly true, it did hurt but Alfred took it stoically. He was the Hero.

"Why do you have to be so huge?" He teased biting his bottom lip suggestively. The impassioned look in his eyes implying he didn't really mind at all.

Matthew shook his head. "I'm just a bit bigger than you."

"Well," Alfred smirked proudly and thrust up into his own hand "I wouldn't like to take myself up the ass either."

"Is that so?" Matthew slipped a few more inches in causing Alfred to gasp and his breath to become strained as he felt himself being filled even more.

"We'll see if I can't change your mind, eh?"

Matthew pushed all the way in with a grunt of exertion.

Alfred was impossibly tight his inexperience with bottoming was obvious from this alone.

Alfred made no noise of discomfort but Matthew could tell it hurt from the stiffness of Alfred's posture and the way his eyes watered.

Not with tears, no, but from the pressure of being so completely stretched and filled in a way so foreign to his body.

Matthew stroked him reassuringly and began a steady rhythm, gently at first, giving Alfred time to adjust.

Matthew's head felt high and light, in shock that he was actually here, on top of Alfred, pushing inside of him. His body was grounded by animalistic desires urging him to push in deeper, to rut into the bewitching body he had in his hands.

He mastered himself until he knew he had found just the right angle when Alfred let out an arousing cry and clutched at Matthew's back, letting him know he'd stimulated his prostate. He bucked up fervently and told him in no uncertain terms.

"Right there Mattie! God yes right there!"

Alfred whimpered and pushed down on the large cock inside of him.

Matthew, his Matthew, was inside of him. All he could focus on were the broad shoulders, the alabaster skin, and chiseled chest of the man above him.

Oh god Mattie was beautiful. In Alfred's eyes He was all forest, taiga, and tundra, the ruggedness of the northern frontier. His golden hair so like Alfred's own recalled vast prairies and when the light hit his blue eyes it was reminiscent of illusive aurora.

To Alfred he was flawless and his perfect match. Alfred knew sometimes Matthew didn't feel special, didn't feel original, and he just wished he could find the right words to tell him how ridiculous that was, to show him that there was no one in the world like him, no one more beautiful, and no one he loved more.

Instead what came out was a wanton moan and terribly insufficient words "Fuck, Mattie, you're so gorgeous."

Matthew's only response was to tighten his grip on Alfred's hips and increase the pace and depth of his thrusts as he moved in and out of him. He leaned down to capture Alfred's lips that were half parted as he let ragged breaths escape him. Matthew dipped his tongue inside tasting him and drinking in the moans and gasps that arose from Alfred's throat as he pushed farther, faster, and harder into his heat.

Alfred was searing hot, tight and perfect. Matthew didn't want to be jealous, he didn't want to be possessive, he didn't want to be _that guy_ but he couldn't help himself. Alfred, beautiful, strong, brave, completely indomitable Alfred was his in a way he couldn't be anyone else's.

Relationships between countries could be so fickle and so difficult to maintain through all the pressure and the conflict but Matthew firmly believed that Alfred would never open himself to anyone else the way he opened himself up to him and he was drunk on that fact.

Alfred's breath caressed Matthew's lips when he pulled away reminding him of the warm summer air of the south. The golden skin beneath his hands was like California sand and the blue eyes that watched him intently were hazed over with lust like wide open skies above the desert distorted by a heat mirage.

They were like opposite ends of a magnet inevitably drawn together. The conveniently labeled North and South at once unique and at once just the flip side of the other. Always opposing, always impossible to separate.

"_Alfred._" Matthew knotted his hands in golden hair thrusting harder and faster watching Alfred's hand working on his own hard, needy, erection as his cock slid in and out of him. Alfred was so beautiful spread out beneath him. His face colored a soft pink, Texas gone askew. Matthew moved his thumb to tease Nantucket causing Alfred to cry out and tremble at the touch. He reached up to pull Matthew's curl in retaliation, sending a wave of pleasure down his spine and propelling his hips to slam harder against Alfred's ass pushing himself deeper into the willing body beneath him.

"Come for me Al please" Matthew found himself begging as he felt near to his own completion. "I'm incomplete without you."

Alfred nodded panting hard, fist pumping himself furiously. His mind focused solely on the sensation of Matthew inside of him. Finally, finally, It felt like something he'd always been compelled towards and never acknowledged. The feeling of his beloved Matthew above him completed him and he understood fully the emotions behind the plea his northern twin had let slip because he was feeling them himself.

"I know, I know." Alfred's eyes locked on Matthew's as he spilled across his chest. "I need you too!"

The sight of it did Matthew in and he thrust as deeply and completely into Alfred as he could, releasing his tension with a cry as the world went white around him.

For a moment they were both perfectly still, as if shaken by what they'd just done, and then Alfred broke the moment with a loud, happy laugh and threw his arms around Matthew's neck.

He kissed his newly minted lover hard on the mouth. Was his ass sore? Yes. Had it hurt? Yes.

Was it amazing? Undoubtedly. Would he trade it for anything in the world? Never.

"So it was alright?" Matthew asked. His sheepishness returning as the fire inside him abated.

"Oh, Mattie!" Alfred would've jumped on top of him but he wasn't quite up to moving yet. Instead he settled for one of his patented crushing hugs, smearing the come from his belly to Matthew's. "Duh! It was epic, dude!"

"Heh." Matthew blushed and hid his face in Alfred's shoulder. "Epic, eh?"

Alfred cupped Matthew's jaw and guided him up for a kiss. "I love you, Matthew."

"Ah." Matthew blushed even harder. It wasn't like the times they'd said I love you before. It still held all the same emotions, the same meaning as before, but now it seemed so much more raw so much more exposed. "I love you too."

As the two lay back against the pillows Matthew cleaned them off with the sheet.

"I think we may have just flooded the great lakes." Alfred yawned.

Matthew snorted.

"No I'm serious I think Huron and Erie probably just splashed all over Michigan."

Alfred gestured dramatically.

"What is Michigan your prostate now?"

"You oughta know." Alfred winked "Since you were just shoving Southern Ontario into it repeatedly."

"What do you know?" Matthew teased and leaned over to kiss Alfred on the jaw. "You're not as bad at geography as I thought you were."

Somewhere between the kissing and the jabs back and forth the pair fell asleep in each other's arms and when they woke next the sun had set.

Matthew sighed happily and pulled Alfred tight against him.

He felt fully rested and apparently so did Alfred since the southern nation had been waiting for him to wake up.

"While you were out I dreamed up a Preamble."

Alfred teased as he kissed Matthew's chest.

"What?" Matthew asked his head still swimming from what they'd just done. "A Preamble to what?"

Alfred ran a finger lightly over one of Matthew's nipples "To my declaration."

"Hmm?" That got Matthew's attention and he focused on the blond who had just taken his nipple in his mouth. "Declaration?"

Alfred pulled back and fixed Matthew with a wicked grin. "Yes. My declaration of love."

Matthew blinked. "O-okay." Alfie was so weird sometimes.

Alfred cleared his throat for dramatic effect and sat up partially supporting himself with one arm so he was looking down over Matthew and began in his most official voice:

_"I hold this truth to be self-evident, that all pancakes are not created equal and that all other nations pale in comparison to their well endowed creator who I grant certain unalienable rights, among these being love, loyalty and the pursuit of my happiness."_

"YOUR happiness!" Matthew smacked Alfred on the back of his head, knocking him back against his chest. "Typical!"

Alfred laughed and curled his arms around Matthew's waist snuggling against him.

"Thought you'd like that."

Matthew couldn't help but smile and bury his face in Alfred's blond hair.

"Actually I think the "Well endowed" bit was my favorite part."

"Mmm yes." Alfred grinned. "Mine too. Well, that or the pancakes."

They lay there happily entwined in each other's arms, for how long, neither of them bothered to tell.

The moment was only broken when Matthew felt his stomach rumble lightly.

He had over slept and missed breakfast this morning and all he'd had on the plane was a measly bag of pretzels. It was time for an early supper in his opinion.

"Al," he ruffled the American's hair affectionately. "We should get up let's go get dinner."

"No!" Alfred clutched Matthew tighter in protest burrowing into his warmth with head resting on Matt's stomach.

"What?" Matthew was reeling. Did Alfred just say no to food? He checked his pulse. Well, he was still alive. "Did you say no?"

"Comfy." Al grumbled "Don't wanna move."

"But..." Matthew stuttered unsure what to make of it or what to do about his heavy twin who had him trapped underneath him. "Well I'M hungry." Matthew finally asserted.

"Candy drawer." Alfred sleepily gestured to the bedside table.

Matthew snorted. "Only soap opera obsessed housewives keep candy drawers."

"Shut the fuck up." Alfred protested "Candy drawers are cool."

Matthew reached over and pulled out the top drawer of Alfred's nightstand to find it bursting with all kinds of chocolates, jellies, fruit snacks and candy bars. You name it, it was there.

Matthew laughed. "So where do you keep your romance novels?"

'_Oh yeah?'_ Alfred thought. _'Wanna insinuate I'm some kind of old school desperate housewife? It's on!'_

Al sat up and straddle Matthew who had chosen a mini snickers bar.

"Romance novels? I don't know what you're talking about." He grinned. "Though I may have some Captain Canuck comics under my mattress."

Matthew paled. Alfred had to be joking. "You do not!"

"You don't know" Alfred winked "I might."

"That's wrong!" Matthew gaped. "He's a comic book hero you can't... you can't do that kind of thing!"

"Ah come on," Alfred teased "like you've never had it off to Superman or something?"

"I'm not sick like you!" Matthew defended. "And Superman is half mine."

"Oh?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "It's about national origin now? like you're the only one allowed to jack off to Captain Canuck? That's Stingy Matthew. I gave you the entire DC and Marvel universes and this is how you repay me?"

Matthew shook his head in horror.

"What is wrong with you? Are you trying to destroy childhoods? I would never think about Captain Canuck like that!"

"Nah" Alfred teased grabbing a peanut butter cup out of his candy drawer. "I guess that's my thing right? You're obviously more of a Captain America man."

"Now see here!" Matthew flushed red in frustration. "If I WAS going to jack off to a superhero obviously I'd choose Captain Canuck over Captain America but I'm not a perv-"

Alfred interrupted "What about Nelvana? She had some sweet cans..."

_'Oh hell no.'_ Matthew thought. He'd teach that hoser to talk about Nelvana like that.

Matthew totally lost it punching Alfred in the face.

"Augh! DONT TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT! I HATE YOU!"

His southern brother just laughed it off and continued his diatribe.

"I'd like to see her and Wonder Woman and a huge tub of jello..."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Matthew continued his ineffective pummeling. "You're completely bereft of morality!"

Realizing that Alfred was doing nothing but laughing and pretending to swat him away Matthew gave up and turned away pouting.

"I bet you prefer Guardian anyway."

Alfred laughed. "No way dude. Everyone knows Wolverine is the ultimate Canadian superhero."

He took Matthew's hand in his own and squeezed. "After my Maple Maverick of course."

Matthew blushed. "Shut up. You just like Wolverine because he was bros with Captain America."

Al shrugged and poked Matthew under the ribs "Whatever. When are you going to let me tour Department H?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. Alfred had only been asking him about this since Marvel invented it.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Department H doesn't exist!"

"It exists! I know it!" Alfred squeezed him tight shaking his head and refusing to acknowledge the possibility that the Canadian Department of Defense didn't really have a secret branch for training Superheros.

"Grow up!" Matthew shook his head "and to think you've been independent longer!"

Alfred's stomach suddenly growled. "Hey let's go get dinner!"

Matthew sighed. "I only just suggested that!"

He followed as Al sprang to his feet, already dressing and rambling about where they should go to celebrate and get some decent food.

…...

**Note: In case it isn't recognizable to any non-US readers, the "Preamble" Alfred writes is a rip off of the preamble to the US declaration of independence. Also, I wish I lived in Michigan now. **


	14. Eh bombs, Twinkies, and Alberta Beef

**A/N: Aaaaah! 100+ reviews! I hurried to get this chapter out because I was just so excited! It's just a short little interlude and I'll try to update again ASAP. **

**I know I say this every time but seriously guys...thanks! It makes my night reading your reviews.**

**I love hearing everyone's thoughts and the little bits about where they live and how they feel about being assigned to a body part like the folks from Indiana, S. Ontario, and poor flooded Michigan (which now that I know was actually flooded I feel kind of bad about!) Anyway, thank you all! ^_^ and since it was asked for by a couple of readers the specifics of Project Fat Canada will be revealed in this chapter. Also I seriously meant to make this fic darker than it is but I can't stop screwing around with fluff and humor. I guess that's one of those things your first fic will teach you.**

**Chapter 14: Eh-bombs, Twinkies, and Alberta Beef**

Matthew picked at a limp greasy French fry and looked across the table to Alfred and his mountain of hamburgers. This was the second McDonald's they'd been to. Alfred had gotten them kicked out of the first one by breaking into the ball pit despite the fact that the playground had been closed for hours and was, you know, for children.

Matthew was feeling something of a failure. If he had actually succeeded in fucking Alfred until he couldn't walk then he wouldn't be in this mess.

_'Well,'_ He thought to himself. _'I'll just have to try harder next time.'_

"Hey Mattie," Alfred grinned brandishing the ketchup bottle. "You still sore about that Maple Leaf tattoo thing?"

"Huh?" Matthew looked up. He hadn't thought about that in ages. "Well, it was kind of rude Alfred but no biggie."

Al grinned and leaned forward across the table. "Come here, I'll make it up to you!"

"What are you..." Alfred had the ketchup bottle uncapped and was pointing it toward Matthew's forehead.

"Don't worry Matt! I'm a great artist!"

"Ack!" Matthew jumped backwards as ketchup spurted toward his head. "What's wrong with you? Stay away from me!"

Alfred's obnoxious laughter filled the restaurant. "C'mon Mattie i'm just trying to make a Maple Leaf for you!"

"Yeah on my forehead! With Ketchup!" Matthew squirmed out of the hold Alfred had managed to get him in and knocked over a napkin dispenser in the process.

As Matthew ran for the door Alfred backed up, got a running start, and used a table to his advantage as he shot through the air to tackle Matthew into the coke machine which came down around them with a loud rumble as Al straddled Matthew and accomplished his mission.

Moments later they were in Alfred's car speeding away before the policemen the manager had called could arrive. Alfred was humming happily to himself as Matthew pouted in the passenger's seat.

His forehead was still sticky and he smelled of ketchup.

He knew nothing good would come of going to Mickey D's with Alfred but the other blond had insisted that since he'd bottomed apparently he was entitled to dictate their entire evening. _Brat._

"How do you manage to get us thrown out of two Mcdonald's in one night?" Matt seethed.

"We haven't even been out of the apartment for more than an hour and a half!"

"Relax!" Alfred shrugged. "I get thrown out of Mcdonald's all the time."

"And they keep letting you back in?" Matthew asked genuinely surprised. "Why?"

Alfred idly scratched his head. "I dunno. Patriotism? I'm just too much party for one restaurant to handle?"

"You're too much party for anyone to handle." Matthew huffed and folded his arms staring out at the lights of D.C that flashed past them.

"I dunno about that" Alfred casually slid his hand over to Matthew's knee. "You were handling it pretty well earlier."

"Oh my god, I had sex with you!" Matthew let his ketchup-violated head fall against the passenger window. "I'll never have another peaceful moment as long as I live."

"Probably not" Alfred conceded "but you're just a little trooper, aren't you?"

He reached over and pinched Matthew's cheek.

As Matthew was lost in thought contemplating the consequences of giving in to his lust for his southern twin Alfred had decided to turn from the direction of the apartment (where Matthew had insisted they return) towards the airport.

"What...are...you...doing?" Matthew asked slowly turning wide eyes on Alfred when he finally snapped out of his angsty thoughts and noticed where they were.

"You need to cut loose." Alfred informed him as he parked the car. "You worry too much about what people think. You're so proper all the time. You're like all the nice things Arthur pretends to be when he's not out getting trashed and listening to the Sex Pistols."

"And that is a problem why?" Matthew asked narrowing his eyes. "You could stand to be a little more of those things yourself you know and be nice about Arthur he has excellent manners!"

"Maybe." Alfred gave Matthew a kiss on the cheek. "Don't get me wrong sweetie I love those things about you. Sometimes at night when you're not around I stay up and giggle about them to myself but that's besides the point..."

Matthew blushed partly from the kiss and partly from annoyance. Stupid Alfred and his patronizing giggles.

"You need to like, explode a little before you implode, does that make sense bro?"

"You stole that concept from that Adam Sandler movie with Jack Nicholson" Matthew informed him. "And I do not."

"You SO do." Alfred got out of the car and went to open Matthew's door for him. "Which is why we're going to Vegas before, like, you snap and shoot up a world meeting with whatever dinky ass Canadian hunting rifle happens to be the only gun you can get your hands on."

"No." Matthew glared. "The last time we went to Vegas I found you in our hotel room with a Drag Queen dressed as the Statue of Liberty."

"We didn't DO anything." Alfred defended. "We were just playing poker as I heroically convinced her to get off the sauce."

Matthew stalwartly refused to move as Alfred tried to convince him to get out of the car.

He knew it was futile. He knew he'd end up in Nevada. He knew that in the end he'd probably enjoy it too but he couldn't go without a bit of a fight.

Finally the northern nation decided whatever lay in store in Nevada couldn't be worse than sitting through another minute of being poked in the ribs to a chorus of

"_Mattie, mattie, mattie, please! Come on!" _

Matthew prepared to get out of the car but had to make one thing perfectly clear first.

"Don't you dare try and pull one of those Hollywood fastballs on me! If you try to get me drunk and marry me I'll be back across the border before you can say hunka hunka burnin' love!"

"Still not legal!" Alfred chimed and poked the tip of Matthew's nose. "Though," He continued in a purr. "It is legal here in D.C if that's what you'd rather do with this weekend."

"You make a good argument for Vegas." Matthew teased as he mentally prepared himself to cope with two days of extreme American Kitsch. "but you realize we have no luggage and no reservations?"

"Uh!" Alfred scoffed in mock offense and gestured to himself. "The Hero needs no reservations."

"_God help me._" Matthew mumbled irritably as Alfred took his arm and dragged him toward the entrance.

As they boarded the plane and found their seats Alfred pushed passed Matthew with a yelp of "Dibs on the window seat!" Matthew just rolled his eyes at his loud twin and muttered. "Figures you'd be a screamer."

"What bro?" Alfred challenged as he took his seat and popped open a bag of M&Ms he'd had tucked away somewhere. "Screaming is what girls do Mattie. I do not scream. I bellow."

Matthew sat next to his brother and chuckled softly. "You what?"

"Bellow." Alfred stated as if it were common knowledge. "It's much more manly."

Matthew felt one of his eyebrows instinctively inching towards his hairline.

"You mean like what cows do?"

Alfred snorted and shook his head. "Bulls, Matthew, like bulls do."

"One bellows in rage Alfred." Matthew smiled a small self satisfied smile. "You do not bellow in pleasure. Trust me you were screaming, whimpering, and moaning and I believe there was a little bit of pleading in there too."

Alfred's eyes went wide then they narrowed. He did NOT plead. Okay, maybe just a little like ONCE but so did Mattie so they were even. He certainly didn't whimper except that one time with Nantucket but, well, okay, maybe he had. He still wasn't going to let Matthew be all smug about it.

"If you ever want a repeat performance you will shut the fuck up." He huffed and slumped back in his chair. "I don't know why you think you're one to talk anyway. You're the pervert here."

Matthew looked bemused hadn't this whole thing started when Alfred jumped him in a pair of Canadian flag briefs?

"How am _I_ the pervert?"

Alfred smirked. "You're SO the pervert always pinching my nipples, slamming guys into wall, and drinking gay milk."

"It's called Homo for Homogenized, Alfred! And I know Mr. tight ass baseball pants isn't criticizing hockey."

"I'm just saying," Alfred spread his palms. "if I didn't know better from personal experience I'd say you were over compensating with those sticks. It's probably true in most cases."

Matthew scooted his hand across their joint arm rest. "Speaking of personal experience I will say you are a wonderful catcher."

"Hey!" Alfred snapped. "The only reason I have to catch is cause you can't handle what I'm pitching baby! As evidence by the times we have tried playing actual catch."

Matthew shuddered at the memory. It was a good thing he was a country and therefor incapable of reproducing in the first place otherwise that baseball to the groin would've done some serious damage. Goddamn Alfred and his insane pitching arm.

The two settled into a rare moment of quiet as Alfred pulled out his phone and commenced to texting before take-off while Matthew flipped through the in-flight magazine.

In the end Matthew just couldn't let it go. Alfred was _obviously_ the pervert! Had he even had a look at the kind of things Hollywood was turning out lately?

"I am not a pervert. Why do you think I'm a pervert?" He snapped.

Alfred looked up with a little smile as if he'd been waiting for the outburst.

"Look at it this way," He waved a hand. "Canada is America's what?"

Matthew glared at him suspiciously but took the bait. "Neighbor to the north?"

"Hat! Good job Mattie!" Alfred smiled and Matthew wondered again if Al was really that oblivious or if this was just another one of his ways of picking at him. It was probably the latter.

Before Matthew could retort, Alfred continued.

"But on all your T-shirts America is Canada's...?"

"Underwear?" Matthew saw where Alfred was going with this though he preferred the ones that said throne he didn't want to encourage one of Alfred's anti-monarchist rants.

"So what you're trying to tell me is that you want me wrapped around your naughty bits?"

Alfred leaned in and nudged him suggestively.

"Maybe." Matthew blushed lightly and didn't bother denying it. "But then what's with this hat thing? You need someone to cover up the hole in your skull revealing where your brain should be?"

Alfred scoffed. "Ha! You can call me a retard all you want because now I have the ultimate come-back. You're fucking a retard!"

"Uh!" Matthew drew back "I don't use offensive terms like that!" He pouted and glared at Alfred "though it could be argued that I am fucking an _idiot_ yes."

Alfred laughed "Oh Mattie," he ruffled his hair. "You're not a fucking idiot!"

For a minute Matthew just stared and then he slumped forward with his head in his hands.

"Mon dieu, How do people mistake me for you?"

Alfred had been waiting for Matthew to say something like that ever since the idea that Mattie might find himself forgettable had come to him during their moments of passion he'd been preparing a gym coach quality pep talk for the right occasion.

"If you're so concerned about not being mistaken for me you need to take your Canada-ness and own it dude. Drop an Eh-bomb on the world. Give the mounties meese to ride. It'd be hella intimidating and super Canadian and if anybody says shit about it just grab that slab of Alberta beef I know you have in your pants and ask "What're you gonna do aboot it, eh?" and then very politely tell them where to shove it, because that's how you roll."

Matthew couldn't help but smile. It seems they'd come a long way from Al slapping American flag stickers on his forehead though Matthew wouldn't put it past him to try it again. He reached over and squeezed Alfred's hand. His American could be so endearingly sweet albeit in the brashest ways.

"The plural of moose is moose Alfred not meese, and as much as I appreciate your pep talk I'm never going to grab *that* in public let alone refer to it as Alberta beef."

"Why not bro?" Alfred cocked his head to the side. "I've got sixteen ounces of Texas Ribeye in my pants and i'm proud of it!" He punctuated this statement with a firm grasp of his vital regions.

Matthew sighed and smiled. "Good for you Alfie." He leaned over and kissed Alfred on the cheek causing the other nation to grin and offer him a thumbs up and a causal "Hell yeah!"

They chatted easily about what they would do in Vegas once they got there and, on Matthew's end, what they would definitely NOT be doing there until Matthew's stomach rumbled.

It was late there was no meal on the flight and Matt really hadn't had time to eat at either of the Mcdonald's that Alfred had gotten them kicked out of.

"Don't worry Mattie." Alfred winked and patted his stomach which made Matt feel a little weirded out to be honest. "I got ya covered bro. The Candy Man is here!"

"Candyman?" Matthew smirked. "Really?" He wondered if Alfred realized that was a euphemism for drug dealer or not.

Alfred ignored him and opened his bomber jacket and fished around in the deep inner pockets pulling out a variety of snack cakes. "Watcha want? Twinkie? Ho Ho? Snowball? Zinger? If it's Hostess I got it."

"How do you do that?" Matthew asked amazed. "Seriously what are you, part vending machine?"

"I'm America, baby!" Alfred grinned and patted his magical junk food producing jacket with pride.

Matthew had a brief internal struggle part of him telling him that he should wait and eat something more substantial and healthy the other half was too busy staring at the light fluffy vanilla Twinkies and chocolate coated Ho Hos to care.

He delicately plucked a twinkle from the pile and laughed "I'll take a Twinkie though you're lucky I'll eat them after that stunt you pulled in '85."

Alfred chocked on the snowball he'd just begun to scarf down causing Matthew to slap him on the back until he'd managed to cough it up in a pink coconutty mess.

"Who told you about Project Fat Canada?" Al demanded. "Was it Peterson? I swear I'll string that loose lipped larry up by his balls!"

"Woah!" Matthew made shushing noises. "You can't just say things like that in public and did you not think I would notice? We monitor these things you know. You can't just suddenly replace the cream filling in Hostess products with pure lard and not expect people to notice." He frowned. "I thought it was a joke. What's Project Fat Canada?"

Whatever the hell it was Matthew didn't like the sound of it.

Alfred laughed slinking back in his seat. "Ha ha ha! Nothing Bro! Just a harmless practical joke like ya said."

Matthew stared at Alfred in shock until he snapped out of it by swiftly slapping him on the arm. "What the hell eh?"

The question hovered in the air not needing to be repeated. Alfred knew he'd been found out. Now was the time for damage control. He put on his best pout and turned baby blues on Matthew.

"Well the supersize craze was just taking off and...and...I thought you'd be really cute if you were chubby. I thought, shit it's the 1980s! Everything is getting bigger, my coke is bigger, my fries are bigger, why can't my Canada be bigger?"

Matthew's mouth had fallen open. Why was Alfred so frighteningly weird sometimes? He loved him, that couldn't be denied, but the superpower was at times disturbingly impulsive and while the fact that his creativity knew no bounds was usually a good thing, in certain cases, like this one, it was not.

"So let me get this straight, you hump my leg in flag briefs, you make me a hamburger in honor of our hypothetical delicious children, and you misuse your tax dollars to try and get me fat because you went through a chubby chasing phase and yet you maintain that I'M the pervert here?"

Alfred ventured a slightly shyer than usual smile. "All because I love you dude."

Matthew shook his head. "and what did you tell the military in order to get funding for your fetish? "

_'Which is completely fucked up and I can't believe you would try to fatten me up just to get your jollies off and if your brain wasn't totally fried from all the cocaine your most influential citizens were snorting at the time I'd never forgive you.' _Matthew thought to himself.

"It was easy dude," Alfred shrugged. "I just said that to avoid any chance of you ever invading the United States we'd have to get you all horribly obese and that we could do it while promoting the interest of American fast food companies. Colonel Sanders (no relation) really liked the idea."

So that was how he wanted to play it , eh?

"Hmm." Matthew countered with a vindictive smile. "Maybe now would be a good time for me to invade considering how horribly obese you all have gotten?" He asked while poking Alfred's ridiculously hard totally lacking in pudge stomach. This still managed to baffle Matthew. All he could figure was it had to be his huge military.

"Hey! I am not fat!" Alfred snapped, and then, with a small laugh "and everybody knows you couldn't invade a fly!"

"Neither could you," Matthew pointed out intentionally messing with Alfred. "I don't think the technology exists to invade a fly. They're tiny."

"Oh yeah?"

Alfred's face screwed up into a look of determination and he pulled a small notebook and pen from the inside pocket of his bomber jacket and scribbled a note.

_Note to self: Call the pentagon about fly breaching technology _

Once he'd tucked his notebook away he turned to Matthew and wrapped his arm securely around him.

"So Mattie my gloriously un-fat totally hot Canada we have a little while til we get to Vegas. Wanna join the mile high club?"

"I don't know." Matthew sniffed. "What if I'm not chubby enough for you Alfred? What then?"

"Ah come on." Alfred deflated. "It was a phase dude a phase! I try not to think about it."

The two continued arguing well into their flight until Alfred finally gave up and fell asleep on Matthew's shoulder after which Matthew honestly found it hard to stay mad at him when he made cute little noises in his sleep and grabbed onto his sleeve.

**A/N: Also, please don't get excited for nothing guys I'm seriously not going to do the drunk wedding trope. **


	15. Don't Fuck With The Canuck

**A/N: Sorry this took longer to get up than planned. My weekend was busy! I'd like to update bi-weekly but my schedule just isn't letting me. Thank you for all the reviews. I love them! **

**Oh and I had that bacon-maple sundae at Denny's. It rocks. I don't care what anyone says. **

**I Watched this video on YouTube about it and this line cracked me up:**

"**It doesn't even stop. It just...wants to be with itself."**

**Can/Ame it's natural and as inevitable as syrup and ice-cream and bacon all melting together into a glorious flavor sludge. **

**There will be one more chapter of Vegas and then *gasp* plot progression!**

**...**

**Alcohol Trivia time (It's chapter relevant):**

**Jack Daniels does in fact use a maple charcoal mellowing method for their whiskey. Sexy, eh?**

**Moosehead is the largest totally Canadian owned brewery. **

**Molson Coors was created in 2005 as a merger between Molsons of Canada and Coors of the U.S ****they are the world's second largest brewing company.**

**Anheuser-Busch was one of America's oldest breweries and kind of an icon. They were bought out, against a lot of opposition and amid lawsuits, by the Belgian company InBev. Their merger created the world's largest, highest grossing distributor of beer, it also pissed off a fuck ton of Americans. **

**Sleeman is a Canadian brewery that was bought out in 2006 by the Japanese Sapporo brewery. The Japanese buy out marked the end of any totally Canadian owned company having a stake in Brewer's retail inc. which owns The Beer Store and has a near monopoly on beer sales in Ontario (or so says all mighty Wikipedia) . I could see this upsetting Matthew. **

**Labatt is a Canadian beer that was purchased by Belgians in 1995 and is now part of the Anheuser-Busch InBev super monster.**

**...**

**Chapter 15: Don't Fuck With The Canuck**

Having passed the night on the plane the first thing the pair did on arriving in Nevada's most famous city was find a place to crash. True to his word Alfred did seem to have his connections in order. However, what he had in connections, Matthew realized, was balanced by what he lacked in taste.

Their hotel room looked like the set of a high budget 70s porno. Mirrors spanned an entire wall, the carpet was thick, plush, and red as the heart shaped water bed. A vibrant glass chandelier cast the room in a subtle glow. Matthew eyed the jacuzzi suspiciously not trusting the cleaning crew.

As Alfred placed an order for breakfast from room service Matthew tried to get into the spirit of things.

Like the trip to Disneyland a few years ago that he'd been so skeptical about Alfred had a way of making things Matthew never thought he'd enjoy fun. He really appreciated that about his brother.

Matthew flopped back onto the water bed and waited for the steak and eggs Alfred had ordered him from room service. He was looking forward to some real food since all he'd had in the last 12 hours were greasy french fries and a Twinkie Alfred had summoned from the depths of his bomber jacket.

They enjoyed a decent breakfast and Alfred left Matthew to nap while he went out to run errands.

Alfred kissed his twin on the forehead and pulled the covers higher. It was the least he could do after using Matthew like a giant pillow on their flight last night. Taking off for Vegas had been kind of impulsive but it had seemed like a good idea to Alfred at the time. This was a presidential election year and with November just a little over a month away making time for Matthew had been more difficult than he'd been letting on. He'd been catching hell for it at work actually. They both needed to have some serious fun and hopefully this would work to sustain them over the weeks they would spend apart as Alfred was absorbed in the elections. Which, really, he should be following right now but to hell with that! He was allowed to take some time for himself, right? The incumbent President may disagree, hoping that keeping Alfred busy and by his side would increase his chances of re-election, but Al knew better. Elections were like a virus that just had to run its course while Alfred sat back and bore the effects. Vegas was like one of those magical places they made movies about and so, Al rationalized, nothing could go wrong here. He and Matthew would have a whirlwind adventure and depart the city feeling revitalized and even more in love than ever. Yep, that was how it was going to go. Now he just needed to go make dinner reservations, buy them a change of clothes, and pick up some Celine Dion tickets.

Alfred patted himself on the back for being culturally sensitive enough to pick out something Matthew would love. He figured he had too since Celine Dion was Canadian and all. Matthew would be so pleased!

When Matthew awoke the first thing he saw was Alfred perched at the foot of the bed in full western regalia. He was wearing a brown three piece suit, bolo tie, cowboy boots and hat. Alfred extended the tray of strawberries he'd been nibbling on to Matthew. "Sup dude?" He asked apparently having been sitting there just watching and waiting for Matt to wake up. As Matthew took a strawberry he noticed the identical outfit slung over one of the hotel chairs. "Alfred," He began in a soft voice "I'm not wearing that!"

Alfred just laughed like any protest was absurd. "We're twins bro so it'll be cute. We used to do this all the time."

"Yeah," Matthew answered "When we were tiny colonies and England, in his infinite fashion sense, thought dressing us in matching white nighties would be cute."

Alfred scooted closer to Matthew and poked him in the stomach. "Oh? Someone is starting to sound like France."

"Only when he's right." Matthew sniffed stealing another strawberry. "besides I'd look silly in western wear."

"I think it'd be capital S sexy man!" The finger Alfred had used to poke him was now drawing circles around Matthew's belly button.

Matthew settled on just the slacks and white button down, refusing to wear the bolo tie or cowboy hat Alfred had bought for him in spite of his aggressive brother's demands.

Alfred did manage to get him into the cowboy boots though mainly because Matthew had always secretly thought they were kind of cool and could rationalize wearing them by the fact that his slacks would conceal them for the most part. Besides that it quieted Alfred's complaints and the look his southern neighbor was now giving him was gratifying. Who knew Alfred had so many little kinks?

Alfred wrapped his arms around Matthew from behind and nuzzled his neck. "Ah geez Mattie" He mumbled and brushed the hair away to kiss his neck. "you In those boots."

"Al," Matthew laughed as he tilted his head to avoid the brim of Alfred's hat poking him in the eye. "Your hat makes this awkward."

"My hat makes this awesome!" Al protested and attacked Matthew's neck with renewed vigor.

"You gonna let me teach you to two step tonight?" Alfred asked moving his hips against Matthew and grinning. "Dinner, drinking, dancing? Sound fun?"

"If you put the dancing before the drinking then yes." Matthew pulled back and smiled a small smile. "I've seen you dance drunk. Remember the twenties? When everyone was doing the Charleston and you blew chunks all over that flapper?"

"Ah the roaring twenties!" Alfred sighed and then shook his head. "nope dude that whole decade is one opulent blur I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Francis said you've liked me since the twenties." Matthew blushed furiously and stared at the floor, hardly believing he'd actually just said that. It had been on his mind though. Had Alfred really liked him that long?

"Stupid France!" Alfred's face was now as red as Matthew's and he began compulsively rubbing the back of his neck. He'd kill Francis for that. How did the Frenchman know anyway? Did he really have love ESP like he claimed he did?

When Alfred realized his shy twin was watching him nervously he decided it was time to man up and be a hero about it.

"Er, yeah Mattie, I have. I mean if you want the truth dude I think I've always wanted to be with you. Since forever really. Since before we were colonies, since a time I can barely remember I've always wanted to be with you as close as you'd let me."

_'Sometimes closer than you'd let me.'_ Alfred thought with a twinge of guilt but tried not to dwell on the painful often crazy parts of their past. He thought instead of the good things they'd shared and the future he wanted to build.

Matthew really didn't know what to say so he settled for kissing Alfred, for dipping his tongue inside his mouth, and enjoying the way their heights matched up almost perfectly and their bodies melted together when he wrapped Alfred in his arms.

When their kiss broke Alfred re-adjusted his hat and grinned. Seeing that small, content smile on Matthew's face was everything to him. The pair laced hands and left the hotel room.

Vegas wasn't exactly Matthew's scene but he could enjoy the way Alfred's face lit up like the signs on the strip as he dragged Mattie around showing him every new, shiny thing that caught his eye.

"Hey baby, do you want to go up the tower and talk about how much better it is than France's?"

_'I'd like you to go up my tower and talk about how much better it is than France's...' _Matthew thought but out loud he said "That's okay Al. I'll pass."

Things were going well as the they enjoyed a leisurely stroll and some window shopping on their way to dinner. At least things were going well until the couple was distracted by noises coming from a small alley to their left.

"Wait here Matt!" Alfred slung his arm to the side halting Matthew in his tracks.

Matthew peered down the alley. A woman seemed to be in some kind of argument with her boyfriend or possibly her pimp or both. It wasn't physical yet but it was escalating to a worrying degree.

"Alfred," Matthew whipped out his cell phone. "He hasn't put hands on her. Let's just call the police they'll sort it out."

Before the words were even completely out of his mouth Alfred was down the alley with an arm slung protectively over the woman's shoulder.

"Oh _god_." Matthew sighed.

"Is this guy bothering you Ma'am?" Alfred demanded.

"Ma'am?" The woman snapped throwing his arm off her. "Who do you think I am? Your grandma?" she demanded while the man she'd been arguing with closed the space between himself and Alfred.

"Get your hands off my woman, brah! You gotta pay for that."

"Pay? Prostitution is illegal in Las Vegas and I doubt you are the proprietor of a legal Nevada brothel anyway."

Matthew tiptoed closer. "Alfred let's just go call the police."

Of course he didn't listen to him. He never listened to him.

Alfred shook his head at him. "I think this calls for a citizen's arrest."

"Johnny," The girl interjected. "Let's ditch."

"Shut up bitch! I'm handling it!" the man replied.

Alfred put his hands on his hips standing between the two.

"That's no way to talk to a lady and decent up-right citizens shouldn't be skulking around in alley ways."

"Listen here you two-bit cowboy!" the guy snapped sneering at Alfred's hat. "it ain't none of your damn business!"

Matthew grimaced when the guy put his hands on Alfred's collar he knew it was over.

"I'll give you about 5 seconds to unhand me and apologize to the lady here..." Alfred began.

"Or you'll what chump? Choke me with your stupid tie?" the guy laughed and tightened his grip on Alfred's lapels.

"1...3...5!" Alfred counted with a grin before pulling back and punching the guy straight in the face.

"JESUS, ALFRED!" Matthew yelled, horrified as the guy sprawled out on the cement stone cold unconcious.

"Johnny!" The girl shrieked before turning her rage on Alfred and Matthew.

"Now we can call the police." Alfred replied pulling his cellphone as they ran from the enraged woman who had pulled off one of her stilettos and was waving it overhead.

"Hello? Officer? I'd like to report a case of illegal prostitution..." Alfred chirped.

"Ack!" Matthew yelled as the woman gave up running and flung her stiletto hitting him sharply in the back of the head. "Always me!" He whined, rubbing the back of his head. "I think I'm bleeding! Why always me? Why do they always hit me? I told you we should call the police from the beginning!"

A few blocks away they stopped. Matthew was winded and clutching the back of his head.

"Aw" Alfred examined his slightly bleeding head. "Sorry about that."

Matthew glared. "If you would just _listen_ to me for once Alfred these things wouldn't happen."

"But did you see me deck that asshole?" Alfred asked smiling.

"Yes." Matthew sighed rolling his eyes but smiling slightly. "I saw you deck that asshole."

"Don't pout Mattie!" Alfred wrapped an arm around his waist. "Let's go grab a beer huh? That'll cheer you up!"

A cold beer did sound good after their unexpected jog and it couldn't hurt to have a few drinks before dinner could it?

"All right, let's get a beer." Matthew agreed and under his breath added. "_thank god for imports_."

"I heard that!" Alfred piped up "and my beer is awesome I will have you know."

"Of course it is Alfred." Matthew said sweetly sarcastic. "That's why you're the only one who likes it."

"_Exactly_...wait...Hey!" Alfred smacked him on the back. At least he remembered his head wound.

They walked for awhile until Alfred found a bar that seemed to suit him. As they entered Matthew noticed the rainbow flag hanging in the window.

"A gay bar Al?"

"Problem?" Alfred grinned.

"Not as long as you don't start singing that stupid song." Matthew pursed his lips.

"_Let's start a war._" Alfred leaned over and breathed into Matthew's ear. "_A nuclear war._"

"Those would be your favorite lines." Matthew joked.

"Nah my favorite line is _I've got something to put in you_." Alfred wiggled his eyebrows. "_at the gay bar! gay bar!_" He grabbed Matthew's hips and thrust against him causing the other nation to swat him away.

"Knock it off Al! Behave yourself. We're in public!"

Matthew loved Alfred's advances but he was definitely not big on the public displays of affection that Alfred seemed to thrive off of. Al would probably let him have him on the bar if he suggested it, Which was, in some ways, very very sexy, and in others slightly disturbing.

As soon as Alfred restrained his sudden hyper burst the two entered the bar which was just starting to fill up as the evening went on. They found seats at the bar and ordered.

They started with beer but it wasn't long before Alfred was suggesting that, really, a brew was not complete without a little whiskey.

"They're like a married couple." He insisted. "You don't want to be a home wrecker do you Mattie? Whiskey and Beer together forever."

And so they started taking shots between brews quickly losing count as the beer chaser washed away the flavor of the whiskey.

"Do you know?" Alfred grinned as he was a happy tipsy. He ran his hand up Matthew's leg as he spoke. "That Jack Daniels mellows their whiskey by running it over ten feet of sugar maple charcoal? Jack Daniels, Mattie, the definitive American whiskey." He leaned his head onto Matthew's shoulder. "Drop by drop." He toyed with the buttons of Matthew's shirt. "getting all maplefied over that charcoal. God! Doesn't it just turn you on?"

Matthew, feeling a bit tipsy himself, snickered. "It hadn't occurred to me that alcohol itself could be sexy Al."

"Oh you're missing out." Alfred said seriously. "I swear I just about blew a load in my pants when I heard about the Molson Coors merger."

"Did you?" Matthew asked dryly. He still wasn't sure how he felt about that. It pissed him off a bit that Moosehead was the only large, totally Canadian owned brewery left.

In a rare bit of "reading the mood" Alfred picked up on Matthew's sulking.

"Don't worry about it, Mattie." He rubbed his back. The merger had pissed off a few folks in the U.S as well as the Canadians. "You know the ownership structure is divided equally between the Molson and Coors families. And you know what? Andrew Molson is chairman of the board of directors and Peter Coors is only vice chairman." Matthew couldn't repress a small smile.

"Yeah," Alfred continued to rub his back moving a bit lower. "I thought that would make you happy buddy."

"and you know what?" Alfred slid his bar stool closer to Matthew's. "We're the second largest brewing company in the world, Mattie. In the world! One of these days we're going to take down that stupid Belgian Anheuser-Busch InBev."

"You still pissed off about losing that company to Belgium, eh?" Matthew shook his head.

"I'll get it back." Alfred's brow furrowed in concentration. "No, _we'll _get it back and then we'll incorporate it under Molson Coors and we will rule the beer world Matthew." Alfred began to cackle madly, drawing more than a few stares. "WE'LL RULE THE WORLD!"

As he came down he took another swig of beer and muttered. "Stupid fucking InBev."

"Right." Matthew patted him on the shoulder. "I wonder where I can find Moosehead in Las Vegas..."

"Aaw come on." Alfred pouted. "It's better than when the Japanese got Sleeman or those damn Belgians got Labatt! At least we're in an equal partnership over at Molson Coors."

"Fucking shut up!" Matthew groaned, slumping over onto the bar. "Just shut up, Alfred!"

Those two buy outs still stung like hell. Alfred had a point but only comparatively.

Alfred leaned over and stroked his cheek. "Don't let it hurt you honey. We'll go after Sapporo after we take down the Belgians. You know how good I am at playing Monopoly. I'll get them back for you sweetie."

"Al, I'm not going to play at corporate domination with you. I have more pressing concerns when it comes to governing my country than taking down foreign breweries."

"But you know I'm good at playing monopoly, right?" Alfred clapped his hands. "I like using the little dog! Isn't he cute? Sometimes when I'm lonely I play two ways and pretend the other player is you! Guess which piece I use? Come on! Guess!"

"I have no idea." Matthew squeaked. Alfred's sudden mood changes from scheming CEO to boardgame loving child were unnerving.

"THE HAT!" Alfred burst into a fit of giggles.

"For fuck's sake." Matthew downed another shot of whiskey. "I should've known."

Time went on and Matthew was quickly more drunk than he'd expected. The beer disguised the whiskey so well.

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna go the bathroom."

All that alcohol had decided to shoot right through him and leave nothing but a swimming head and a pleasant tingling buzz in it's wake.

Alfred laughed at him as he slumped off the stool nearly losing his footing.

Matthew vaguely registered the flash from Alfred's camera phone as he made his way to the bathroom.

Alfred, himself swaying on the spot, grinned at the picture he'd snapped of Matthew's drunk face.

Mattie might get mad at him for this but any chance Alfred could take to piss off Arthur was well worth it.

He clicked the buttons to send the picture along with a text message. He had no idea what time it was in England and he didn't care.

_**Step one: Get Drunk step two: Get Married. How's that for courting, old man?**_

Alfred giggled. Sure, he wasn't actually going to do it, but Artie didn't know that.

_**Stop waking me up with pictures of your stupid drunk face you wanker!**_

Alfred grinned at the reply and waited for England to register the words Al had sent and realize who it was actually a picture of.

_**Bloody Hell! Is that Canada?**_

And then, with barely a moment between texts, Alfred's phone went off again.

_**I told you to keep your dirty paws off the commonwealth! **_

Alfred just laughed and shut his phone off as the bartender approached him and offered to get him another shot.

Meanwhile in the bathroom Matthew was receiving a frantic phone call.

"Wha?" He slurred. "Canada speaking, if you're looking for America his number is 1..."

"Don't do it, lad!" Arthur interrupted sounding desperate and as if he had just been roused from sleep.

"Do wha'?" Matthew frowned. "England?"

"You'll regret it for the rest of your life! Think of your country, man! Think of the good of Canada!"

Matthew wasn't quite certain what was going on as he slumped against the bathroom wall but if England was insinuating he wasn't a patriot then there would be trouble.

"I am thinkin' of the good of Canada, dammit!" He jerked away from the wall suddenly. " 'ats why Imma go buy some Moosehead. Yeah, beer that's a great idea!"

"What?" England snapped. "Beer? No! Canada, don't let America..."

"America!" Canada smiled. "Good idea England. I should go get America. We'll find some Moosehead together. I'll show him wha' real beer should taste like!"

"No! Wait..." Arthur never go to finish as Matthew snapped his phone shut, and thinking happy thoughts about he could do with Alfred, a two four, and a tube of lube he slunk out of the bathroom.

The bartender, a handsome young man with black hair and striking green eyes, leaned over the bar and offered Alfred a free shot.

"So," the bartender asked with a wink. "is that your brother or your boyfriend? You look like twins."

Alfred laughed nervously. "um, something like that." he offered lamely in return.

"You know I get off at 2," The bartender offered sliding a hand over the one Alfred had clutched around his beer. "If you, or perhaps both of you, are interested."

"Oh uh, actually..." Alfred blushed. Geez this was embarrassing. He'd have to let the guy down gently and then sit there awkwardly until Matthew got out of the bathroom. "I don't think..."

Matthew stopped short as he exited the bathroom. What the hell was going on here?

Why was that bartender holding Alfred's hand? Why was Alfred blushing? Alfred didn't just _blush_!

In an instant all the times he'd chided Alfred that jealousy was unbecoming came crashing down in a heaping pile of hypocrisy.

Though, to be fair, he wasn't exactly jealous. No, he wasn't jealous. The emotion he was looking for was _pissed off_. That was _his_ boyfriend and nobody else was allowed to make Alfred blush. Nobody.

Much like picking at Alfred relentlessly there were just some things Matthew was allowed to do that other people weren't.

"Come on," The bartender leaned over whispering in Alfred's ear. "I've got party favors and a twin fetish. It can work out for both of us."

Just when Alfred was about to open his mouth to tell the dude to back the fuck up Matthew interrupted them.

It was an interesting thing to see. His usual soft, timid voice wasn't any louder necessarily but it was hard and cold and it cut through the situation instantly. He was still teetering and drunk and obviously a little addled but surprisingly, to Alfred who wasn't expecting it, intimidating.

"_What the hell is this?_" he hissed.

The bartender did a double take but was obviously about as good at reading the mood as would be an America-Italy lovechild.

"Nothing cutie," The guy, who was clearly up for the world's most unprofessional bartender award, pressed on. "I was just seeing if you and your friend here," He still wasn't quite sure if they were related or what. They looked like it but they sure as hell hadn't been acting like it earlier. Either way it worked for him. "Would like to come to a private party at my place later."

"_We'll pass._" Matthew glared and pulled out his wallet throwing some money on the bar in payment of their tab.

"Whatever." The bartender smirked and shrugged dismissively in Matthew's direction before turning to Alfred. "What about you, sexy?"

And then Matthew snapped. He'd later stutter in embarrassment and blame it on the whiskey which he didn't typically drink. He'd blame it on the stress of their earlier encounter with the prostitute and his subsequent head wound. He'd blame it on years of being ignored and pent up frustration and being just drunk enough not to care. He'd blame it on being in a foreign city where he didn't know anyone's name. But what it came down to was him slamming his hands on the bar and demanding "Did you not fucking hear me, asshole? I said we'll pass!"

"Don't fuck with my bar!" The dark-haired bartender snapped quickly steadying glasses that Matthew had disturbed. "and I didn't realize you could speak for him."

"I ain't interested." Alfred piped up and straightened his cowboy hat. He often went a bit southern when he started in on the Jack Daniels.

Alfred's eyes went wide when he realized he was being ignored by Matthew and the bartender who were glaring at each other. He was being ignored. Him! Oh this little role reversal needed to end and it needed to end now even if Matthew was sexy when he was angry.

"As far as you're concerned I god damn well do." Matthew retorted.

Things escalated into a full blown shouting match until Matthew was given the choice to leave or be thrown out at which point Alfred dragged him from the bar, but not before he'd had a chance to grab his crotch and shout "Alberta beef, bitch!" as Alfred pushed him through the swinging doors.

Matthew stood on the curb, swaying and muttering obscenities. Alfred, who had been sobered by the experience of seeing Matthew so livid, laughed and wrapped an arm around his northern brother.

"Okay bro you've had enough. Let's go get some coffee and food in you. Hmm?"

Matthew didn't protest as Alfred led him to the nearest diner.

Alfred ordered them two coffees as Matthew played with the jelly packets on the table.

"That's not Maple syrup." He said, suddenly swatting at the jar of maple flavored syrup on the table. "That's nothing but a lie!" he smacked it over spilling artificial syrup all over the table.

"Dude, calm down!" Alfred threw his hands up. "Take after England much?"

"England, england..." Matthew tapped his chin as Alfred wiped up the syrup to the best of his abilities. "Did I talk to him earlier? What did he...oh! Beer, yeah, beer."

"No more beer for you, bro." Alfred shook his head and smiled. It had been way too long since he'd seen Matthew drunk.

A few cups of coffee and one disgruntled waitress later Matthew was starting to sober up.

Alfred had been keeping himself occupied by rubbing Matthew's foot with his own.

He grinned and sing-songed at him. "Who's my little hero, huh? Defending my honor like that!"

Matthew groaned but Alfred didn't relent.

"I should've been all "Save me Maple Maverick!" and you could swoop in out of the john and been all "Unhand him, Bastardly Bartender!" and then Bastardly Bartender would twirl his mustache and cackle..."

"Alfred, he didn't have a mustache" Matthew rubbed his head. "and I'd really rather not think about this or speak of it ever again."

God, had he actually grabbed his cock and yelled _"Alberta Beef, bitch!" _how could he look himself in the mirror now? He'd lost so much dignity in one night.

"Well he has a mustache now." Alfred continued. "We should totally make a comic bro. It'd be awesome. Naturally I'd do most of the saving but you could have this one special episode where Maple Maverick rescues General America from Bastardly Bartender and his roofie rifle."

"Roofie rifle? I think you're embellishing a bit there Al."

"Yeah" Alfred shrugged. "That's half the fun. How're you feeling?"

Matthew smiled a slight smile. "I'm all right. I've pretty well come down from it."

"Well then let's ditch this place. I know a killer 24 hour steak house. Nothing sobers you up like a hunk of red meat."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You think red meat can do anything. Does it cure cancer too? Does it fight crime when it's not clogging your arteries?"

"Clogging your arteries full of _awesome_, Matthew." Alfred corrected. "Clogging your arteries full of _awesome_."

They paid their bill and made the way out of the diner their waitress was still giving them glares for the spilled maple syrup.

Alfred laced his hand with Matthew's as they walked the streets in a rare moment of quiet.

Matthew was just about to take a hold of Alfred and turn him towards him for a kiss when the other blond was distracted by the sound of chanting and approaching drums.

"Look dude!" Alfred pointed "Parade!"

"Al," Matthew replied. "10 or so hippies in drapey clothes with drums doesn't count as a parade."

As the group passed by them, one woman grabbed Alfred's hand and deposited something into it. She smiled and mumbled something incomprehensible before being pulled away by her peers.

Alfred unfolded his hand and looked down. "Oooh!" He squealed. "Candy!"

"Alfred! Wait!" Matthew reached out a hand to stop him but it was too late.

He blanched. "You don't know what that is..."

_**TBC**_

**Oh snap! Two-four! Who just used a Canadianism? That's right! What's next? Double-Double? Using the Queen's English? Good God! Will the maple themed madness ever end? I don't think so. Though what they're going to do with 24 beers when they're already shit faced is beyond me. Silly drunk Canada and your giant cases of beer.I love you so. Oh and Alfred, Alfred, honey, never take candy from strangers. **


	16. America on Drugs

**A/N: The reviews! I love them ^_^ and with this chapter I conclude act 2 time to start the 3rd act and moving the story towards conclusion. I don't know if anyone is interested but if you'd like to know what happens to Alfred in this chapter is loosely (very loosely!) based off something that happened to my brother-in-law one eventful Hogmanay in Edinburgh. Though it wasn't as intense and colorful or as sexy (to the best of my knowledge, I really really don't want to know if it was!) Some weird people with drums gave him "candy" and the next thing you know he thinks the walls are melting and is afraid he's been poisoned. I laugh about this but I know I shouldn't. I'm sure it was pretty terrifying. Don't take candy from weird people with drums. God. I love Scotland. Also, I have no idea what Alfred tripping balls would mean for America. I kind of want to find out. **

**WARNING: This chapter contains a tiny Crack!Lemon and Canada getting his Seme on. **

**Chapter 16: This is your America and this is your America on drugs. **

"What?" Alfred turned to Matthew after eating the mysterious candy. "It's just candy. Kind of flavorless though. What a let down!"

Matthew shook his head slightly almost thoughtlessly. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. God only knows what that could've been!" under his breath he added "_idiot._"

"Go ahead." Alfred slipped his arm around Matthew's waist as they resumed walking towards the restaurant. "Be a bitch. I like it. I must've picked that up from France. Have you heard the way England talks to him?"

Matthew's cheeks colored. He really didn't want to think about how France liked to be talked to especially not by England, but wait, what was Alfred implying? That he wanted him to dirty talk him or something? It was probably best if he cut off that line of conversation before he started wondering what else Alfred might've picked up from Francis and whether or not he had it now too.

"I don't really want to think about what Francis likes Arthur to do to him, thanks."

"Maybe you'd like to think about what I'd like to do to you instead?" Alfred waggled his eyebrows and pulled Matthew closer with a laugh.

Matthew sighed and let himself be pulled tight against Alfred. He might regret asking but he did anyway.

"What did you have in mind, Al?"

"Well first we'd need to get you out of those pants. The boots would stay on of course. You could wear my hat and the bolo tie and I'd bend you over and turn on the vibrating setting on our bed and..."

Matthew smirked and interrupted him. "There's a vibrating setting on our waterbed? Doesn't that strike you as dangerous?"

Alfred shrugged "I like to live on the wild side!"

_'huh'_ he thought suddenly noticing an inexplicable increase in his heart rate. He loosened his tie slightly. _'That's strange...I was kind of joking but I guess cowboy Mattie would be pretty hot.' _

He ignored the change in heart rate and tuned back in as Matthew had continued talking.

"Besides you can't top, Al. We'd have to be upside down."

Was Matthew going on about geographical position again? He found his rapid heartbeat was harder to ignore now that his brow was starting to cloud with sweat.

Well, either way, he knew what to say to that!

"I'll phone Germany for pointers. You're getting kind of pudgy from all that poutine. I'll have to make sure I get the suspension right."

Matthew snorted at Alfred's retort. "The world already is upside down if YOU are calling ME fat. Besides we all know you like it."

"Ah come on!" Alfred turned to Matthew. Would he never live down Project Fat Canada? "A phase dude, a phase! And it's not like it's the weirdest fetish in the world! So what if I might like a little more to love?"

Matthew blinked. Alfred's pupils were dilated and his forehead was moist with sweat. The night was actually quite chilly there was no reason for him to be sweating.

"Are you okay, Al?" Matthew wiped the back of his hand across Alfred's brow. He felt hot. Matthew felt a sudden rush of worry. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Alfred.

"Yeah I'm fine!" Alfred insisted. "These lights are just a bit bright huh? They...they are..."

He trailed off and began mumbling. All the colorful lights on the strip had started to go all melty and strange. He pointed a shaking finger. "Why have they gone all drippy like that?"

Matthew's eyes widened. "What?" He looked in the direction Alfred was pointing. As far as he could tell there was nothing wrong with the lights or the signs at all.

Alfred didn't reply. He just continued to mumble and stare. Suddenly he snapped out of his trance and grabbed Matthew by the sleeve. "We've got to get away from these lights bro. They're _moving_."

"Alfred I think you've been drugged!" A little voice in Matthew's head that sounded suspiciously like England snapped at him. '_No shit, Sherlock!'_

Alfred turned away from Matthew. He raised a hand to shield himself from the light.

Just what in the hell was going on with him?

That's when he noticed something strange.

There, silhouetted against the shadows that fell between the lights, was a fat, fluffy, very familiar polar bear.

What Alfred meant to say was "Dude, isn't that your bear? Polar bears really shouldn't be in the desert, bro!"

But what came out when he spoke was a feeble stutter. "B-bear..."

"What?" Matthew asked again in increasing alarm. Alfred was pointing at the shadows on the street corner.

"Your bear..." Alfred felt a sudden surge of heroism. Why was Canada's polar bear walking off the strip towards the desert that lay off interstate 15? Polar bears definitely did not belong in the desert and this one needed saving. If it melted in the heat or something Matthew would definitely be sad and that was just about the most tragic thought in existence to Alfred at the moment.

"Hero must...Ice cubes...rescue..."

To Matthew's horror Alfred began wandering off towards the end of the strip.

"Hey, hey, Alfie?" Matthew hurried after him and tugged gently on his sleeve afraid to upset his clearly unbalanced brother. "let's go back to the hotel, okay?"

Alfred's only response was to point ahead of him and mumble "Bear..."

Why had he never noticed how soft Matthew's bear looked before? Was it weird the way he rippled? Were bears supposed to ripple like that? It didn't seem to matter anymore whether or not bears were supposed to ripple. Nothing seemed to matter except following kumajiro towards the peace and quiet and solitude of the desert. Time was immaterial to Alfred as he walked on and on. Time itself seemed to have stopped and the world was melting around him into a sea of colors .

Time was not immaterial to Matthew, however, as he followed his spaced out twin all the way down Las Vegas boulevard far away from the lights of town and off the highway into the cold and monotonous desert.

Matthew was starting to panic. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just grab Alfred and drag him back to the hotel because he might set off a bad trip and with America's super strength god only knows what could happen then. Of course the prospect of following his addled southern brother off the highway and into the desert was not very appealing either. They'd been walking for a good half hour with Alfred doing nothing but mumbling about his bear (was he seeing kumakitchi? Seriously?) and melting lights.

"Alfred please..." Matthew whined desperately trying to break through Alfred's trance. "can we go back to the hotel?" His cowboy boots were freakishly uncomfortable from all this walking and he was starting to hate Alfred for talking him into wearing them.

Alfred had finally judged them to be far enough away from the loud noises and melting lights and he let his body go limp as he slid down into the rocky sand and stared up at the cold black open sky that stretched above them.

Suddenly Matthew slid into his vision. Where did he come from? Had he always been there?

Alfred reached out a hand to stroke Matthew's cheek. God, he was so fuzzy! Why was he so fuzzy?

Alfred squinted. He still _looked_ like he had regular skin but he was so damned fuzzy.

Alfred made a strange unidentifiable noise and raised both hands to touch every piece of Matthew's skin he could reach. Fuzzy, fuzzy, so fucking fuzzy!

Matthew squeaked as Alfred, who was now laying on his back in the gravelly sand, reached up to caress him with clammy fumbling hands.

"Fu...fu...fuzzy!" His twin stuttered.

"Oh okay." Matthew really wasn't sure what to say to that.

Alfred leaned forward and began nuzzling Matthew. A flood of memories came washing over him and suddenly everything in the whole world seemed to be coming undone. In his mind's eye he could see seams unraveling and liquid flowing from meaningless containers and losing its form.

He felt as if he were regressing to something primal, something borderless, and unbounded. His ego receded and his heart expanded. His sole focus became the very fuzzy thing he was holding.

He wanted to crush it against himself and become one with its fuzziness.

As Alfred felt himself becoming one with the fuzziness what Matthew felt and saw was Alfred wrapping his arms around his waist, dragging him against him, and apparently trying to burrow desperately into his chest with his cheek.

"What are you doing?" Matthew demanded not really expecting an answer.

At the sound of the words rumbling from the chest beneath his cheek something went off inside Alfred. An electric shock of clarity ran through his entire body. The fuzziness had a voice! The fuzziness had a name! The fuzziness was Canada! The fuzziness was his Matthew!

"Mmm...M-Matthew!" Alfred slurred and laughed while never ceasing his insistent rubbing.

The world was so big and blurry and beautiful and unbounded and he just wanted to rub against his infuriatingly fuzzy Canadian until they degenerated into primordial ooze together.

_'Oh. My. God.'_ Canada resisted the urge to freak out. He would not under any circumstances freak out just because his super-powered lover was tripping on what he suspected to be LSD and appeared to be trying to fuse with him through brute force of crushing their bodies together.

_'Wait...that's a perfectly good reason to freak out!'_

"Fuzzy...fuzzy..." Alfred clutched at him and unexpectedly let his tongue dart out to lick Matthew's neck. Hmm. Interesting. The fuzziness was salty. He hadn't expected that. He wasn't against it either though. He felt so right with everything that he was prepared to accept it at face value. So the fuzziness was salty? Well that was just beautiful and sexy and perfect. Everything about the fuzziness was perfect.

Alfred was startled as he looked over the fuzziness's shoulder (shoulder? What was a shoulder, really?)and saw the bear staring at him.

It was just sitting there in the sand... staring. Slowly the bear opened its mouth and its voice came out high and light like softly tinkling bells.

"_Two snowflakes..."_ the spectral kumajiro raised both paws "_are never alike though they look identical to the lazy eye._" Alfred found himself nodding and listening with rapt attention as the bear dispensed its sagely advice. _"but both are fated to melt into the same all consuming snow from which they are born and to which they return_." He stretched his paws gesturing to the desert about them and Alfred was overcome by a crushing sense of the size of the world. It was at once so large and so small and so insignificant under the might of the universe.

Matthew watched Alfred as he loosened his grip on him and slid back down into the sand. He seemed to be mumbling about snowflakes and trying to make angels in what Matthew was certain was very dirty sand. They really weren't all that far from the highway and the pollution of Vegas.

Matthew couldn't think of anything to do but ride it out. He sat next to Alfred and rested a hand on the other nation's chest. God only knew what this acid trip was going to do to the American public. Hopefully it would just manifest itself in a rash of inane nonsensical cartoons that would undoubtedly infect his own stations and nothing more serious.

"My snowflake." Alfred grinned and touched a finger to Matthew's lips.

The Canadian rolled his eyes. "That pet name better not stick you druggie."

Alfred sat back up and resumed nuzzling Matthew's chest. His fuzziness...his wonderful fuzzy snowflake! He could almost hear wind brushing through grass as he let his fingertips wander over perfectly fuzzy skin. He felt a warm stirring deep inside him. Everything under his skin had turned into sugary, emotional, sticky goo and he wanted to coat his fuzzy partner in it. He started to babble and run off at the mouth trying to let all the sticky emotions inside him out through the half formed words and emotive noises he created. Did the fuzziness understand? Surely the fuzziness understood. The fuzziness knew him better than anyone else. The fuzziness was so much closer to his soul, to the sticky, sugary, goopy, emotional lump inside him than anyone other nation. He wanted the fuzziness to touch him and infect him with its fuzziness and spread fuzzy love and happiness into all the crusty lingering sad bits that formed on the exterior of his sugary goopy core.

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what Alfred was doing now. He appeared to be speaking in tongues or perhaps trying to make bird calls and failing. He sounded like a cross between a mouse having sex and a wood chipper with something lodged in it.

Alfred shifted and grasped onto Matthew's shirt. He pulled him close and looked him straight in the eyes. His pupils were massively dilated and his baby blues were stretched unnaturally open.

"I want you inside of me."

"No! No way!" Matthew scuttled backwards. Under other circumstances that statement would've been sexy but with Alfred's eyes so wide and intense and his face so close to him, it was actually quite frightening. Scratch that... it was fucking_ terrifying_.

Alfred blinked and his face soften and crumpled into a look of pouty sadness. He needed the fuzziness. Why was the fuzziness going away? Who was going to shake off all the crusty sad bits from his sugary goopy soul?

He stretched out his hand and let it hang in the air. "Fuzzy." He mumbled.

Alfred pulled his legs against his chest and felt himself begin to tremble. Everything that had been light and expansive and unified was turning black and cold. The world was shrinking in on him and his consciousness of himself was returning in a bad way. No more was there the receded ego and the willingness to be open and raw and one with the universe now there was only criticism and guilt and crushing self-doubt and a painful brutal awareness of self and rejection.

Of course the fuzziness didn't want to have anything to do with him when there were so many bad bits inside him. Shadow places and cracks that you could fall through and crushing bleak nothingness.

_'Oh shit.' _Matthew thought, sitting up on his knees. _'I triggered a bad trip.'_

"Hey, hey," He whispered softly, soothingly, as he moved closer to Alfred. "It's okay." He started to stroke Alfred's arm. "It's okay. You're my little hero." Matthew felt terribly corny but he knew it had to be done. He remembered the 1970s. It wasn't like it was the first time this had happened.

Alfred moved instinctively into the comforting touch and Matthew soon found himself with a lap full of tripping American trying to twine himself around him. He just stroked Alfred's hair as the other nation trembled and mewled and clawed at his back.

Matthew had no idea what was going on but in Alfred's mind the shadows were swirling all around them like ribbons braiding them together and Matthew had become the single flame lighting the darkness and he was like a moth trying to burn himself inside of him only to find the fire cool.

It was infuriating. Why couldn't Matthew's fuzziness just consume him? Why?

"My Canada! My Canada!"

Matthew just sighed, ever patient, ever suffering, and patted Alfred on the head. "Yes. yes."

The way Alfred tightened his legs around him and kept squirming on his lap was terribly distracting which only made Matthew even more frustrated since he really couldn't fuck Alfred while he was tripping on LSD. He just couldn't. Not only were the ethics on that iffy but if Alfred slipped into a bad trip during the act it could end disastrously.

"Mmm. Want you." Alfred pressed himself against Matthew's warmth. He seemed so perfect, so wonderful, so everything. Alfred just wanted to press their souls together as tight as possible. Why didn't Matthew understand that?

_'Oh god damn it, not this again.'_

"Alfred," at the sound of his name Alfred pulled back and turned unfocused eyes on Matthew. "I promise you when you're in your right mind you will owe me a thoroughly punishing fuck to make up for this but we're not doing that now, okay?"

Alfred continued to stare blankly at him. Matthew's mouth was moving but Alfred wasn't hearing words he was hearing, no, feeling vibrations. Vibrations were coming out of his mouth and dancing in the air between them. Alfred giggled. Who knew words could tickle like that when they touched you?

Alfred continued to move back into his happy trip stroking Matthew and mumbling about his fuzziness until he fell asleep in the Canadian's lap and Matthew, unable to move with Alfred on top of him, resigned himself to laying back and falling into an uncomfortable sleep in what he was all too aware was filthy sand. He was going to need such a shower.

His last thought before drifting into unconsciousness was_ 'Fuck Vegas. Next time I'm planning the vacation.' _With calming images of a quiet cabin in the Canadian Rockies he fell asleep.

When Alfred woke the sun was high in the sky and he was sporting a helluva burn on the back of his neck. Thankfully it seemed he'd been shielding Matthew with his body so his twin, who was giving him the glare to end all glares, had been spared the worst of it. He picked up his hat from where it had slumped over Matthew shielding his face from the sun.

The first question on his mind was _'What the hell happened last night?'_

"_Don't be silly Canada,_" Matthew hissed "_It's just candy! What could it hurt to take things from __strangers?"_

"Oh." Alfred (who was feeling extremely dehydrated and knew Matthew must be feeling the same) pressed a hand to his head. He felt a bit dizzy but it was all coming back to him. He'd taken the tablet that woman had given him only it hadn't turned out to be candy at all.

"Yeah 'Oh!'." Matthew propped his aching body up on his elbows.

Alfred stood and offered Matthew a hand to help him to his feet.

"I'm sorry things didn't go as planned, bro."

He was still in shock. He remembered this intense feeling of openness and had Matthew seemed really fuzzy last night for some reason?

"What plan?" Matt sighed. "You had no plan!"

Alfred frowned and pulled Matthew close to him. "That's not true! You having fun was the plan."

"Oh well. Yes. Mission completely failed then I'm afraid."

"It's just with the elections coming up in a few months I'm really not going to have time for you. I'm already in trouble for taking off as much time as I have been. You know my boss is freaking out putting all kinds of pressure on me and I just..." He trailed off. "I guess I just wanted to get away from it and be with you. I never meant to put stress on you in the process Mattie. I just wanted us to have a good time."

Matthew felt himself soften. He remembered how sweet and child like Alfred had been last night. He tried to put a positive outlook on things. He stroked Alfred's cheek.

"Look, let's just get back to the hotel, get clean, get some water, and relax before we have to head home and I'll forgive you as long as you promise to never call me snowflake again."

"Dude!" Alfred laughed. "I called you snowflake?"

Matthew sighed and took Alfred's hand as they headed back towards Vegas all the while keeping an eye out for the first available cab.

"Yes you did among various other things. You also owe me a fuck."

"Do I?" Alfred grinned. "I'm okay with that."

They finally found a cab and made it back to their hotel room. A cool shower together, some Aloe Vera for Alfred's sunburns, copious amounts of water to undo their dehydration and a relaxing soak in the jacuzzi for their sore muscles had them both feeling refreshed.

"So..." Matthew smiled a small smile as they climbed out of the annoyingly heart shaped jacuzzi. "about that fuck?"

"Can't keep your hands off the hero, huh?" Alfred smirked while towel drying his hair. "Can't say I blame ya babe can't say I blame ya."

Matthew placed his hands on Alfred's hips and caught his lips in a rough kiss. He hadn't forgotten the hell Alfred had put him through last night.

Matthew was glad they were already naked. He wanted it fast, hard, and to the point.

Alfred laughed as they broke their kiss. He still found it adorable, if also sexy, when Matthew got that darkened look in his eyes. He was just too cute, it couldn't be helped.

Matthew growled infuriated by Alfred's giggle. He wasn't _cute _dammit. How hard did he have to fuck Alfred to get him to take him seriously?

He thrust his erection against Alfred's own half-hard member and was gratified to feel it respond instantly to the stimulation.

Matthew knotted his hands in Alfred's hair and they kissed while stumbling in the general direction of the campy heart-shaped waterbed.

Matthew hastily jerked open the bedside table while pinning a still laughing Alfred underneath him.

He was going to fuck those giggles right out of him that's what!

He lubed up two fingers and shoved them roughly inside earning a satisfying hiss of pain from the blond beneath him.

He pulled back and slapped Alfred across the ass.

"Dude!" The southern nation protested "What the hell?"

"That's what happens when you do stupid shit like taking drugs from strange women. Do you understand me?" Matthew demanded.

"I thought it was candy!" Alfred defended earning himself another smack as Matthew continued to scissor his entrance with his fingers.

"That's not a fucking excuse! Don't be so naïve!"

"I'm not Nai...aaah!" Alfred's sentence was cut short when Matthew slammed inside him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Matthew!" He shouted but was pacified by the skillful hand pumping his needy weeping erection.

"Repeat after me." Matthew demanded and began by punctuating each word with a hard thrust to Alfred's prostate. "I. Will. Not. Take. Candy. From. Strangers."

"Fuck you!" Alfred groaned bucking into Matthew's hand. "S...s...seriously dude!"

Matthew spanked him again. "I. Will. Not. Take. Candy. From. Strangers."

"If you spank me one more time motherfucker...aaaah!"

Matthew yanked hard on Nantucket and slammed deeper into Alfred simultaneously.

"F..f..fine! Fuck it! I will not take c-candy from strangers!"

Alfred came hard over Matthew's hand and spilled onto the sheets beneath them. The sudden tightening of his muscles caused by his orgasm set Matthew over the edge and he released himself inside his lover with a cry.

They were soon crumpled on the bed together, the waterbed still rocking from their forceful tryst.

Alfred was laying on his stomach and glaring at Matthew. "I hate you." He stated flatly.

Matthew felt the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. "The feeling is mutual Yankee."

"Stupid fucking Canuck." Alfred felt his ability to keep a straight face crumble and soon they had both dissolved into laughter as Matthew pulled Alfred into his arms.

"I'm going to keep taking candy from strangers you know."

Matthew's face fell. All jokes aside didn't Alfred realize how dangerous that was?

"Nooo." He whined. "Dammit Alfred! Don't you ever learn?"

**A/N: Drugs are bad, Mmkay? Blame Canada**

**Also, my sister is writing a very cute CanAme fairytale based off (but also very altered from) the Grimm's bros tale "Clever Hans" called Clever Alfred.**

**It's in my favorites if you're interested. It has Canada being adorable and patient and America being our loveable heroic little derp. You should check it out. ^_^**


	17. Udderly Ridiculous

**A/N: Thanks for all the new reviews everyone, I really appreciate them. So this chapter is shorter more like the length of my earlier chapters. I'm just trying to set things up for a short time jump next chapter.**

**Oh and I found a really cute picture of lil' America and lil' Canada as Wolverine and The Cap.**

**If you're interested:**

**http:/www. pixiv .net/member_?mode=medium&illust_id=8108549**

**Note how Kumajiro is dressed up as Superman.**

**Chapter 17: Udderly Ridiculous**

Alfred flicked on the television as he waited for Matthew to finish getting dressed and gather up the few things he'd brought along so they could head back to D.C.

A bright eyed young anchorwoman came on the screen.

"_Hospitals across the nation are reporting a strange surge in patients reporting to emergency rooms last night complaining of dizziness, headaches and most disturbingly...hallucinations. One man in Iowa, who has asked that his identity not be shared, claims that he got a sudden uncontrollable urge roll around on his shag carpet because quote 'It was just that fuzzy.' When he passed 6 hours of compulsively rolling on the carpet, his wife took him to the hospital fearing a mental break down. Doctors are looking into the complaints but say that so far they can determine no cause of the odd symptoms."_

Matthew, who had finished dressing, moved to stand beside Alfred and sighed.

Alfred just looked up at him with a guilty grin. "Yeah, but it was kind of cool."

"I'm sure that's what the poor woman thought who had to see her husband, a grown man, rolling around on the carpet like a cat in catnip."

Alfred shrugged. "Well they'll have a good laugh about it now that things are back to normal. You ready to go?"

Matthew nodded and Alfred stood up. He picked the spare cowboy hat up off the bed and held it out to Matthew.

"Keep it?"

Matthew smiled and nodded. "Okay, Alfie."

Matthew ducked his head and let Alfred put the hat on him.

"Cute!" Alfred beamed. "I told you you'd be adorable!"

Hand in hand they set out for the airport, Alfred lamenting that they didn't have more time to do all the things he'd wanted to do like teaching Matthew to two-step or taking the roller-coaster off the side of the skyscraper, and Matthew feeling that their brief time in Vegas had been eventful enough and looking forward to having some time to relax when he returned to Canada.

When they reached D.C they had little time together as Matthew had to gather his things and be off again in order to be in Ottawa ready for work Monday morning. This imminent departure left them both with a bitter taste in their mouths. Though Alfred tried to chase it away with kissing and Matthew eagerly reciprocated it couldn't change the fact that there was simply never enough time.

"One of these days," Alfred joked as he stood in the entry way holding Matthew's bag "I'm going to force them to move D.C closer to the border. I'll have the whole city lifted and moved with giant cranes!"

"You do that Al," Matthew kissed him on the cheek. "Let me know how the president takes the news, eh?"

Alfred paled at the realization that he would probably have to explain the strange behavior of his citizens when he got into work tomorrow. Sure, the media might play it off as an inexplicable occurrence, but the government knew better. He was in for an ass chewing.

He brushed it off and wrapped his arms around Matthew.

"We could tunnel underneath Niagra Falls and build one joint, totally awesome super city. The only way to enter it would be going over the falls like on a log ride and plunging straight down into a tube system of some sort that would zip you around the city. Everything could be hydro powered. It would be like a little Atlantis."

Matthew frowned "Or, you know, we could NOT industrialize one of the world's great natural wonders. How about that?"

Alfred pouted. "Dude it would be like Otoh Gunga but cooler."

"That underwater city in Star Wars?" Matthew shook his head. "Bro, no. Next you'll have everyone talking like Jar Jar Binks which would then catch on in your movies and spread around the world and trigger World War 3 just from sheer annoyance."

Alfred laughed. "Like Jar Jar Binks but with the addition of 'Eh.' because meesa culturally sensetive."

Matthew smacked him hard on the head which only made Alfred laugh more.

Matthew sighed. "You're so ridiculous." He took his bag from Alfred and gave him a slow and searching kiss. "I have to go now." He smiled his small smile. "This weekend was...interesting."

He thought about everything from the first time they'd slept together to Alfred's acid trip and everything inbetween. He was just happy to have the time to spend with Al. It should be easier for them to get together but their schedules and the time they spent traveling constantly got in the way. It was one of the things that had caused his relationship with New Zealand to fall apart, though it had ended amicably. Matthew knew that he and Alfred would always be tied together, that much was inescapable, but he hoped they continued to flourish on this new road.

Alfred squeezed his hand. "With the election in 2 months I don't know when I'll be able to see you again."

"Just keep in touch, eh?" Matthew smiled.

Alfred brought him close for a final kiss before they left for the airport for the second time that day.

Alfred respected Matthew's desire not to have his face sucked off in public before he boarded his plane but just barely. He sighed as he climbed into his car and began the drive back to his apartment. Part of him was glowing with happiness that things were going so well for he and Matthew. He'd wanted to be with him and he was but while that need had been filled it had opened the door to a new, stronger, overwhelming need. He didn't think he was asking a lot just for the ability to wake up next to him every morning. He didn't even need pancakes, well, not everyday at least. There was a breakfast menu at McDonald's for a reason.

Alfred imagined doing his paperwork would be so much less boring if he could just hear the sounds of Matthew going about the house while he worked. He'd even let him do away with , which was saying quite a lot, if only he could see those jars of maple syrup Matthew loved so much in his cabinets and smell the coffee he roasted in the wee hours of the morning when no one had any business being up. He just wanted to watch him stirring it into his coffee and...

_'Geez I'm being such a sap!' _Alfred laughed and made a mental note to use that pun on Matthew later.

In a more serious tone he continued his inner monologue chiding himself that he knew that was unlikely to ever happen. They were countries after all. They were lucky to share a border, lucky that popping up (or down) for the weekend was an option. Their work kept them incredibly busy between diplomatic missions abroad, sometimes traversing the world and back multiple times a week, and domestic issues like the constant changing of politicians and power between parties there was little time for living normal lives. In spite of how he joked about it, and in spite of Matthew's deeply rooted abiding paranoia about it, Alfred did not want him to be his Lichtenstein or his Prussia. He didn't him to be entirely dependent upon him or to incorporate him into him. Not that he hadn't wanted these things in the past...but he tried not to think about that. He couldn't want these things because they were contrary to truly loving him. He wanted Matthew to be always as he was...beautiful, strong, free and at times very strange. Alfred chuckled lightly. Bagged milk for god's sake! What was wrong with his brother? Alfred had read somewhere that the Soviets used bagged milk. He was going to have to keep an eye on that. He could live with it if Matthew wanted to be a bit pinko but he couldn't have his communist milk bags migrating south.

Honestly he loved everything about Matthew from his Frenchiness to his metric system and the way he insisted on sticking Us in words where they didn't belong. Colour? Humour? What the hell is that?

Not that he would ever tell Matthew any of this. God no! Better to just keep teasing him about it and assuming he'll catch on.

When Alfred got home he had a short internal struggle staring from Tony on the couch playing Team Fortress and the open door to his study. Work or play? Work or play?

He thought about the ass chewing he was already going to get at work and how much worse it would be if he didn't have his paperwork done.

Throwing his hands up in the air with a dramatic "Why God, why?" He made his way to his study intent on giving his best heroic effort at staying on task.

When Matthew finally got home he greeted Kumajiro who responded in his usual forgetful fashion. Matthew didn't even have time to care however as he was exhausted from his day of travel. All he wanted to do was strip down and climb underneath his heavy blankets and sleep like the dead until he had to rise for work tomorrow. He'd get up early and finish off the papers he didn't yet have done.

Promising himself that sometime in the next few weeks he'd make time to get out to the country, he made his way to his room and dropped his suitcase on the floor. He'd clean everything when he woke. For now he just wanted to nap and de-stress. He set the cowboy hat Alfred had given him on the dresser, stripped down to his boxers and with a sigh of relief climbed into bed.

He was still a bit baffled by all that had happened and how fast it had happened. His face flushed hot at the thought of the things they'd done. Three weeks ago he wouldn't have believed it but he supposed deep down there had always been a longing and a curiosity. Alfred seemed to be concerned that the busyness of their jobs would negatively effect them...Matthew knew it was possible but when they had such a strong foundation to stand on and were so close geographically he wasn't worried. Of course, he frowned slightly, there were cracks in that foundation. Old scars, negative memories, but those were all in the past. He was sure they'd be fine.


	18. Knock On Wood

**A/N: Hello all! As always thank you for the reviews! And for any of you who may be wondering, yes there will be some Bottom!Canada, even though I typically prefer him on top, I also like a balanced relationship I'm just saving that for a special time later in the story ^_~**

**Also the president shows up in this. I didn't try to write him with Obama's personality or anything he's just a general presidential figure, just FYI.**

**Addition: Sorry for anyone who read this earlier and saw missing bits of text, for some reason document manager doesn't like it when I say "Mr. Jones" no idea why. Thanks to Mizumaru Mari for pointing it out to me!**

**Chapter 18: Knock On Wood**

The first Monday after Matthew left had been hellish for Alfred. It started at about 5am when he dragged himself out of bed and in order to have time to shower, dress, and make it through to Mcdonald's before he had to be at work at 6am. It started with a briefing on the day's events.

One of his handlers, usually Roberta the older woman with the stern brow, would fuss over him reminding him not to be too informal during the diplomatic meetings and that they didn't want a repeat of that time he and Poland had gotten animal crackers all over the carpet in the oval office.

In spite of his attempts to convince them that that had in fact been a very successful diplomatic meeting they were never satisfied. A secretary would bustle in and hand him a stack of manila folders stuffed full of notes. Things he was supposed to go over, to remember to say or do. His day was strictly planned, especially around election season when his boss was scurrying around trying to do as much to look good in the public's eyes before he came up for re-election. This meant a whole lot of busy work for Alfred tacked on top of the actual, important duties he performed.

Once they were satisfied that he knew what to do and where to go and that he would actually do it (Alfred had a habit of bunking off or skipping out whenever he thought he could get away with it)

about an hour sometimes two would have passed and it would be time for his first meeting.

That Monday it had been South Korea. They'd spent hours discussing strengthening their military alliance and, much to Alfred's chagrin, whether or not China had breasts.

Once his meeting with Korea ended he had a few hours before lunch to devote to signing stacks and stacks of meaningless papers. His signature was little more than a formality, these laws had already been passed, but his ceremonial approval was a must.

_Stacks...and stacks...and stacks of papers._

When his hand was starting to cramp and he was becoming increasingly irritable and ready to tell these bureaucrats where to shove all their red tape, his phone rang.

"The U.S of fucking A," He growled into the phone not caring if his swearing was going to piss off the suits or not. He'd been so close to taking his lunch break and whoever was keeping him from his hamburger and coke could just _deal with it._ "Whadda ya want?"

"Mr Jones," His boss's familiar voice snipped. "What if I had been a foreign diplomat? What kind of impression of our country would that kind of greeting give them?"

"Uh, the correct one probably." Alfred replied. "That he's tired of signing your redundant papers and wants to go home and play wii."

"_Mr Jones..._" The president repeated.

"Please, call me Al." Alfred joked, they'd been through this about a million times.

"you have a duty to your people to behave with a certain professionalism."

"I get the job done." Alfred sniffed putting his boots up on his desk. He wasn't going to take flack from his boss. Bosses came and went but he was always there, always had been there.

"Is that so? Then would you care to explain to me the disturbing headlines in today's paper?"

Alfred sighed. He'd known this would be coming.

"It's not a big deal dude, nobody got hurt."

"Thank god they didn't!" The president replied. "Never the less there was significant damage to property and emotional scarring. Now, our best doctors have been unable to explain this phenomenon

and my sources tell me you visited Las Vegas over the weekend with Canada..."

_'Stupid government always with its nose in my business...' _Alfred pouted.

"So what's yer point?"

The president cleared his throat. "Well, nothing against Canada's character of course..."

"Better not be!" Alfred cut in with a growl.

The president, well used to Alfred's attitude by now, continued undaunted.

"But we know they can be much more lax about enforcing their marijuana laws up there. You haven't been taking drugs from him, have you?"

Alfred chuckled. There had been this one time with Mexico at a NAFTA meeting...but his boss really didn't need to know about that.

"Mr Jones!" The president reprimanded. "This is hardly a laughing matter!"

It was so exasperating dealing with a country who was still essentially 19 years old in human terms.

"Can we wrap this up?" Alfred sighed. "I've got major munchies and I wanna hit Mickey D's."

As soon as the words left his mouth Alfred realized that had been an extremely poor word choice.

"Have you been doing drugs?" The president demanded in the voice of a panicked parent. "Are you high right now? What could this do to the economy?"

"Dude, calm down! I'm not high! I'm just really hungry."

The president refused to be deterred. "What happened in Vegas, ?"

"Okay, okay!" Alfred figured it was best just to get it over with. "I may have been on drugs in Vegas but it was an accident, okay? It wasn't my fault!"

The president lowered his voice and spoke into the phone in a whisper. "If Canada put something in your drink, you can tell me. We'll meet to discuss what happened face to face if you're uncomfortable talking about it over the phone. Everything's going to be all right."

Alfred groaned. "Come on Boss! It's not like I'm dating Russia, here!"

"Yes," The president calmed down. "I suppose you're right but you can't blame me for being concerned. You do make national security difficult ."

"Dude, It's _**Canada.**_" He stressed as if that should be explanation enough to get him off the hook.

Alfred wondered idly if Matthew had this kind of trouble with the prime minister. Given his own reputation he imagined Mattie got it worse. Of course, Matthew had always been better at keeping his private life private so it was entirely possible that the prime minister had no idea they were dating.

Alfred wondered how that would go down...

"That's not the point!" The president snapped. "I'm talking about your devil may care attitude in general! How could you let yourself be drugged? Who did it? Was it terrorists? Do we need to launch an investigation?"

"It was just some hippies boss, I thought it was candy."

There was a resounding smack from the other end of the line and Alfred got the distinct impression that the president had just face-palmed.

"This kind of reckless behavior is completely unacceptable!" The president snapped.

"You put the health and safety of your nation at risk! I've been briefed on the things you did in the 60s and 70s I know the population informs you and you inform the population but there's no excuse for it in this day and age! I don't know what you took from those Vegas lowlifes but it better not happen again, do you hear me?"

Alfred groaned. He hated having anyone in charge of him, even if he did typically respect his bosses.

"Yes yes fine. I think you'll be glad to hear Operation Seduce Canada is very much mission accomplished as of last weekend though."

There was a long suffering sigh from the other end of the line. "I have a telephone conference with the prime minister this evening to discuss timber and I assure you I will be trying very hard to keep that thought out of my head. I'll thank you to keep certain matters that you deem _'in the national interest.' _to yourself from now on."

Alfred snickered. "Timber huh? Yeah Canada's certainly got a lot of wood..."

A brisk "Goodbye, Mr. Jones !" preceded the click from the other end of the line.

After the phone call from the President, he had three phone conferences with Mexico, The Philippines and, to his eternal annoyance, Cuba over a maritime border dispute.

Four meetings a day with other nations was a typical number for him, whether they were face to face or over the phone. Once his international meetings were concluded he would page one of his secretaries and dictate a synopsis of his progress that she would then distribute to the president, secretary of state, and other relevant diplomatic parties.

It was then time to turn his attention to domestic issues. These were larger meetings, as opposed to the smaller nation to nation meetings he had earlier, they usually consisted of him, often the president, and a group of congressmen or senators ranging in size. The congressmen or senators arranged meetings with Alfred and the president to discuss laws that were being proposed or amended and the needs of special interests groups. These meetings could be extremely tiring, much more so than the international meetings. At the international meetings Alfred could represent a more or less unified American front, but at the domestic meetings it was more like being torn in two drastically opposite directions. The interests of the nation were extremely polarized, and Alfred, as a representative of all the people, felt that deep divide sharply. He didn't have, like some countries, a variety of parties varying in power and in their place of the spectrum of left and right, but instead two powerful parties that stood at completely opposing ends that tore at him in a vicious tug of war.

He was perhaps the nation's most valuable mediator during bipartisan negotiations because he could feel the needs and emotions of both parties but it took a great toll on him and left him asking himself time and time again if the civil war had ever really ended.

So by the time he got home late in the evening around 8 or 9 he was ready to just crash on the couch and binge on junk food.

This process repeated itself Monday through Friday and often into the weekends. He didn't mind this so much, he was used to it. His level of responsibility waxed and waned with his nation's need. No, it was when the presidential campaigns intensified that he really started to lose it. He swore if he had to be needlessly present at one more debate, one more photo shoot, one more phony interview during his precious weekend then he was going to completely flip out.

To make matters worse as the weeks went by and September faded into October, they were hit with a wave of unseasonably cold weather and storms. It was affecting a large swath of the northern United States and Al knew it had been particularly hard on Matthew's typically bustling fall tourism season.

The best moments of the day were when he could slip into his superman pjs, crawl into bed, and call Matt.

Things had not been easy for Matthew either. He wasn't in the midst of elections or anything but he had been feeling ill lately and was wary of natural disasters. He knew when to expect a harsh winter, he could feel it in his bones. It didn't help that unseasonable cold fronts made a dent in the number of tourists coming in to look at the foliage. That dent, in turn, made a dent in his economy which caused stress all around. Fall was typically one of his favorite seasons, the weather was usually comfortable, if a bit cool, and everywhere he went things seemed to have an autumnal glow.

This fall's cold front had given him a terrible cough and it was only getting worse. It was terribly embarrassing to have to step out of meetings every five minutes just to make a ruckus in the hall.

At least things were fairly steady politically, they was strife between the parties as their always was, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

The weeks he passed while Alfred was occupied with his elections really weren't so bad. Matthew was a simple, solitary kind of man. It required little to keep him happy. His days were peaceful, if a bit lonely, but he had his books and sports and kumajiro and the odd telephone call or visit from France or England.

Still, when the cough shook through him and his head started to feel light and his chest heavy and congested, he couldn't help but wish he had someone there with him, someone with a familiar blond cowlick, someone who probably couldn't make tea for shit and would utterly fail as a nurse but who would undoubtedly try.

He loved the nights when Alfred had enough energy after work to call him before bed.

It was nice to hear his voice and, honestly, he was kind of running on phone sex.

"_You all right Mattie?"_ a sleepy voice would ask when he answered the phone. _"you don't sound so good."_

He'd do his best to hold in a cough and reply. _"I'm fine Al. How's the presidential race?"_

"_Bullshit." _Alfred would yawn. _"Total bullshit like always."_

Matthew would laugh softly and in the silence that followed Alfred would whisper _"I miss you."_

which never failed to make Matthew smile. _"I miss you too."_

As soon as the words were out, without missing a beat, came Al's reply _"So...what're you wearing?"_

Matthew's laugh would come out louder this time and invariably send him in to a coughing fit. Alfred just completely lacked subtlety. The coughing would of course upset his southern brother and Matthew could hear the rustling of sheets on the other end of the line as Alfred sat up in bed.

"_You sure you're okay, bro?"_

"_Yeah," _Matthew would cough _"Yeah, it's just early winter winds Al. Nothing serious."_

Once Alfred's worry had been placated, which wasn't hard considering he was often barely fighting off sleep, he would come back to the original topic. _"So, like, what ARE you wearing? Seriously?"_

Sometimes Matthew would tell the truth, that he was in his typical sleepwear consisting of a pair of faded flannel pajama bottoms and a long sleeved tee shirt, or sometimes he would make up something fantastical. Alfred was a little _too_ fond of the lumberjack routine.

He'd started it off as a joke _'well I'm just laying here in my suspenders and tight red flannel shirt...'_

He hadn't expected Alfred's reply to be along the lines of _'Oh fuck yeah, you're a workin' man aren't you baby? How many flapjacks could you put away?'_

Matthew had let out a small uncomfortable laugh _'um...' _but Alfred hadn't let up.

_'Are you just going to slather...nngh...those bad boys in maple syrup? Are you?'_

That was when the faint slapping sound caught Matthew's attention.

_'Alfred, are you masturbating?'_

There was a pause and then _'Duh. What did you think I was doing?'_

_'Well yeah but...to the lumberjack thing?'_

_'Fuck yes,' _Alfred replied _'and I'd like to be right now but you had to be a bitch and stop talking.'_

_'oh sorry,' _Matthew had blushed. Why did Alfred have to be such a little pervert? Now he'd have to look at himself in the mirror every morning and think of himself as that guy who pretended to be a lumberjack to get his boyfriend off. The worst part was that there was no way to get Alfred back for this. The other nation was shameless, completely shameless.

'Well...' Matthew continued, there had been no turning back. _'I'm propping my boots up on the headboard and unzipping my jeans...'_

_'ungh, yeah, I bet your feet are all sweaty from a hard day's work...'_

Matthew had grimaced. _'Alfred! Eew!'_

Thankfully most nights were more normal.

"_I'm just laying here in my old blue shirt, I've been thinking about you all day."_

Matthew would say and Alfred would reciprocate by detailing how he was laying there in nothing but his boxers featuring whoever his superhero of the day was.

Slowly they'd work over the awkwardness until they were pouring their passions out over the phone.

Then between whispered words of love, Alfred would declare how they really MUST get together that weekend or the next. He'd promise they'd get together and Matthew would smile and agree knowing that Alfred would only call him days later to apologize and cancel explaining that he had been unable to get out of mediating some debate or attending some useless fundraiser. He swore up and down he'd be there for Thanksgiving in Canada, but Matthew hadn't been holding out hope. When Alfred called and said he couldn't make it, Matthew bore it with typical grace. "It's okay Al," He'd said soothing his brother's apologies. "I'll just come down in November." _'like I always do.'_

When he felt neglected he just reminded himself it was just the elections and they would pass, when the thoughts he'd had before beginning to date Alfred creeped back in and asked him if he'd been foolish and weak, he waved them away.

When the chill that had begun earlier in the month worsened and the cold winds brushed over the warmer waters of the great lakes causing atypical early season lake effect snowstorms across the region, in a larger scale replica of the storm of 2006, Matthew had been given some time of work to deal with the deep, rattling cough that had lodged itself in his chest. He knew that the storms would've affected much of Alfred's lands too and so had tried calling him, hoping he would have some time off as well and hoping they could talk while Matthew tried to lessen the severe weather by bundling up under a blanket and trying to calm his cough with chamomile tea.

Of course Alfred didn't pick up the phone on the first, or second day that Matthew had called.

He supposed he really shouldn't be surprised. The storms were farther away from Alfred's capital and therefor wouldn't effect him as strongly. It was a petty comfort for Matthew...he knew Alfred had to know about the storms. He could feel them even if he had somehow managed not to hear the news.

Matthew knew he wasn't a needy person. He understood that Alfred was busy, hell, he was busy too, but for someone who claimed he loved him to not so much as call when he knew he was sick...

Sure it was election season but how hard was it to break away for a short visit or even just a phone call?

What he did get later was a hurried text.

_**Hey Mattie sry about the storms hope ur ok. Burried in work. **_

Rather than soothing him the brevity of it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. So Alfred had his phone on him and could text but couldn't apparently dial his number and have even a short conversation?

Well he wasn't going to be the one to call him. He had been calling him. If Alfred didn't have the decency to return those calls, that was his problem.

_**It's all good babe. No problem. :)**_

He replied before shutting his phone with an aggressive snap. Alfred knew it wasn't all good. Matthew refused to believe he could be so dense and self-involved as to not know that. Matthew had been coughing for weeks and this sudden, out of season storm had knocked out power, screwed up the roads for transportation and just general put everything in the region to shit.

Alfred knew it wasn't all good...and if he didn't, well then he had to be ten times more oblivious than Matthew had ever counted on.

Miles away in D.C Alfred was staying up late doing his paperwork by the fire in his white house office, trying to shake off the chills. He stared down at the text Matthew had sent him and frowned. He hoped Matthew was doing okay. Alfred had noticed him coughing lately but every time he asked about it Matthew said it was alright. Well, Alfred let his face return to a smile and closed his phone, it wasn't like Matthew wouldn't tell him if he was sick or anything so everything must be okay. With that thought he returned to his paperwork, whistling idly to keep himself awake and entertained.

**A/N: I guess you could say they were *pauses, removes sunglasses* lumberjacking off.**

**~Bahdumching~**

**Also, am I the only one who thinks the softwood lumber dispute should be turned into a dirty doujinshi?**

**'cause i'd buy it, I'm just sayin'. **


	19. Coffee Stains & Candid Calls

**A/N: First off, a happy belated Canada Day and a happy 4th of July to you all and sorry for the long A/N. As always thank you all for the reviews. My confidence in this project is just totally in the shitter right now so it has been really nice to read them and know that even if I'm hating my writing other people out there might find it worth reading. We're in the home stretch here, there's like 5 maybe 6 more chapters left. I know it has been really hit or miss with the humor, maybe some more miss than hit and I'm afraid the conflict may have just come from nowhere but thank you to everyone who has read to this point whether you've reviewed or not. I just hope not to waste your time!**

**Oh and if you're curious, the storm in this is based on the Great Appalachian Storm of November 1950 if the effects in the U.S and Canada were reversed. **

**Can you tell I'm from the south if I had to do research to write about winter storms? Lol. What is snow? IDK! The world is ending! It's a blanket of fluffy white death! **

**Actually we got a blizzard last winter. I was tripping balls! It was awful! It was 70 (21) degrees the week before and then BAM! Mountains of snow and ice and below freezing temperatures. No one was prepared. We all ran around like chickens with our heads cut off. Fuck my state! **

**Chapter 19: Coffee Stains & Candid Calls**

It was the final week of October. Matthew's illness waxed and waned but his work, as always, continued. A sense of paranoia followed him as he moved from his office to home and back again.

Winter storms were nothing to him, they were just a fact of life. He didn't get sick unless something

catastrophic was going to happen. Matthew knew that the weather was out of his control, natural disasters were just something that countries had to cope with. Still, in a perhaps vain effort to combat his illness, or at least to get away from the worried rumors circulating at work among those in the know about his true identity, he decided to take a few stacks of paperwork and his cellphone and go up to his cabin to work from home, relax and try to get feeling better.

As far as the situation with Alfred, nothing much had changed. He was still completely engrossed in his own politics, still seemingly incapable of picking up the phone.

Matthew was stoic about the whole thing. He'd _known_ this would happen. He'd warned himself that Alfred's fancy was fleeting. They all had to balance their work. They all had election seasons but that didn't mean he had to drop completely off the face of the earth.

Matthew asked himself repeatedly if he was being unreasonable but he kept coming to the same conclusion that going a month barely contacting your lover was just completely unacceptable.

Alfred's work simply couldn't be so intense that he couldn't make time for a few hours of conversation.

On his end, Alfred was feeling stressed about a lot of things but his relationship with Matthew was not one of them. He remained blissfully ignorant that he'd done anything to upset his twin. He was eagerly awaiting next weeks election. He'd have a lot to do if his current boss wasn't re-elected but things were looking good for the incumbent and Alfred was expecting that his work life could soon go back to normal. He missed Matthew but prioritized using his brief free time for personal hobbies like catching up on the latest game from Japan with Tony over calling his lover. He rationalized that he needed to do whatever would best help him de-stress and that Matthew would still be there once the elections were over and they could catch up then. When he did think about Matthew it was usually just taking a brief moment to smile and think how lucky he was to have such a chill, low maintenance boyfriend.

It never occurred to him that one week had turned into two and then into three. It never even crossed his mind that even with someone who was relatively unassuming that a certain amount of romantic upkeep was required.

The storm hit in the early days of November and hit with such a magnitude that it left Alfred with constant chills from the weather along the east coast. It was also the catalyst that snapped him out of his self-involved daze and made him realize just how long he'd gone without calling Matthew.

Alfred knew they'd been having rough weather. He could feel it in a lot of his border states and he remembered the cough Matthew had developed earlier in the month. Had Matthew been wrong about its severity? Had he perhaps been putting up a brave front? Was that something Matthew would do?

Alfred shook the thought off. His brother knew he didn't _do _subtlety. Surely if Mattie had wanted him to know, or needed him to know something he would've just come out with it.

Of course what was "coming out with it" to Alfred would've translated to "beating him over the head with it" to Matthew but Alfred didn't consider that.

The storm had been triggered by a large extratropical cyclone that had manifested between the North Atlantic and the Labrador Sea causing high speed freezing winds and blizzard conditions to sweep across Newfoundland and Labrador, Quebec and much of Ontario as well as Alfred's bordering states.

It was particularly bad for the storm hitting so early in the season and freezing ice and snow falling onto trees that still had yet to shed all their leaves. Power was out in large sections of the country and there was extensive damage from fallen trees.

Alfred slumped into his office chair and stared at the phone in his hands. He'd been trying to call Matthew both on his cellphone, apartment phone and office phone in Ottawa not knowing that Matthew

had chosen a very inopportune time to go to the countryside.

Matthew was at that very moment curled up in a large arm chair by the fire. Electricity was out but there was still enough light for him to read by. He felt as if he'd been punched in the ribs and his cough rattled through him, freezing him from the inside out. Still, it was nothing he couldn't handle. He was concerned for the people whose homes had been damaged and for the interruption in transport due to the icy road conditions. He'd do his best to get back to his main office as soon as it was safe to travel though with the thick layer of ice now forming on the roads that could be days.

The radio was reporting that the effects of the storm were extensive. Matthew trusted that even while he was personally indisposed that his boss would ensure aid got where it needed to go.

Matthew hated to be sick alone. He hated it but he was used to it. He stirred a little maple into his tea and took a long rejuvenating drink. He remembered the promises Alfred had made that things would be different now. Things had been going so well for them. They'd opened up to each other in ways they never had before and now...

Now Matthew felt like he didn't even exist to him at all, just as he'd suspected he would. He hadn't been able to listen to his head, he hadn't been able to resist his heart. Part of him told himself that he was paying for that now but part of him still had faith in Alfred. He wouldn't be able to ignore this. He wouldn't just leave Matthew hanging when he'd been hit so hard. Alfred knew what natural disasters did to their bodies. Matthew assured himself that as soon as he was able to get reception on his cellphone he would receive a series of worried voicemails. Alfred could get wrapped up in himself, he could be forgetful but he loved him. Matthew tried to silence the bitter part of himself that reminded him it had been 3 weeks of nothing but brief texts and rushed, almost detached, phone sex.

He told himself he was taking things extra hard just because he was sick even though he knew that was a lie. He was being perfectly rational, he just wished he wasn't.

He wished he'd brought Kuma with him instead of leaving the bear behind to watch the apartment. Even if he couldn't remember his name he was good company and it would have been a real comfort to have the little white fluffball curled up on his lap at the moment.

Back in D.C Alfred was finding it impossible to focus on his paperwork. He swore the coffee stain on one of the bills he was supposed to read was shaped like Nova Scotia and it was killing him.

About the time he realized that he'd been sitting there rubbing his finger across it and mumbling Matthew's name repeatedly was the same time he realized he probably wasn't going to get anything done that night.

He started to kick his desk impatiently with one foot while he dialed Matthew's number again and again even though it was obvious his brother didn't have reception which was frustrating him to no end. Why didn't Matthew have reception? Wasn't he in Ottawa? He should be able to reach _someone_ on his office phone at least. What was up with Matt's cell? Had he gone to the cabin? Why would he...

It suddenly hit Alfred. Matthew always left the city when he needed to relax or recuperate. He must've been much sicker than he'd been letting on and for much longer.

Before Alfred could decide on a course of action his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his office phone. If it was Matthew he would've called on his cell and with that in mind Alfred answered in a lazy drawl.

"_U.S. Of A_."

A very British scoff was the reply. "So you actually do work! Or at least what you call work which I suspect involves stealing ideas from children's cartoons and preparing presentations with colorful paperclips and crayons."

"What do you want, England?" Alfred rolled his eyes.

"I was calling to check on Canada as I can't get through to him at his office. I'm afraid things have gone a bit pear-shaped up his way, haven't they? This storm international news."

"So what makes you think I can get a hold of him?" Alfred shrugged.

There was a pause and England's disapproval positively radiated through the phone.

"What?" Alfred fidgeted in hi chair suddenly on the defensive.

"Oh nothing," Arthur snipped. "only I was under the impression you and he were an item now, or do you just like to rile me up?"

"Well I **do** just like to rile you up." Alfred conceded "though we are dating, yeah, that doesn't mean I'm magically able to contact him when he doesn't have cellphone reception."

Alfred could hear Arthur rapping his nails on his desk. "He's obviously been sick. I thought you would've been paying more attention. What if there had been something wrong with his economy?"

"I am his chief economic partner." Alfred straightened up in his chair and spoke with obvious pride. Why was England so vehemently opposed to his relationship? "I would _know._"

"Oh?" Arthur seethed. "Then it would've clearly been due to an impending natural disaster."

"How is it you manage to attribute his illness to an act of god **and** make it sound like it's my fault in the same sentence?" Alfred demanded.

"You ought to have been looking out for him."

"_Excuse me?_" Alfred was in no mood to deal with this. In truth, England's words were pulling at his insecurities but he couldn't let that on. "He's his own country Arthur. He doesn't need me bustling around like some mother hen. Isn't that your job?" Alfred laughed. "or, sorry, _wasn't_ that your job?"

Arthur bristled and it was evident in his voice. "Pardon me for assuming that, as his lover, you might have some idea of how he's been considering he's been ill for a_ month_. Or didn't you notice?"

"I've been busy!" Alfred snapped. "It's election season. I have a fuck ton of work. My country is completely polarized if you hadn't noticed and I'm dealing with this on top of my usual mile long list of responsibilities and yes I'm the fucking hero and I can handle it but if something occasionally gets passed my radar I'll think you not to be a douche about it. He's his own country bro, he's not my fucking colony, kay? And on that note, you're really not one to be talking are you?"

"Don't talk to me like that you ungrateful arse!" Arthur huffed. He'd called in an attempt to be helpful but he was now feeling inclined just to let America rot.

"Oh yeah and what do I have to be grateful for?" Alfred ran a hand through his hair. Fighting with England was the last thing he needed right now.

"I was going to give you some advice." England's tone was haughty. "but now I'm remembering you've always been too thick to listen to anything I had to say."

Alfred sighed. "You know what? Whatever. If you've got some kind of lecture in store why don't you jut get it out of your system so I can get on with my day?"

On the other end of the line England shuffled his feet. He hated, absolutely hated, frank, emotional moments like this. Why did he have to still feel thee protective urges towards Alfred? Didn't he burn those ties long ago? So why...

Arthur swallowed his pride and coughed out what he had to say. "Listen, America, I know how you feel. We all have heavy responsibilities and it wasn't that long ago that I was the British Empire and on top of the world. People hated me back then you know, but I went on always trying to do what I believed was right but even still I made a lot of mistakes. It's hard not too when you have that much power but I'm going to tell you this, as your friend, that power comes and goes but the damage you can cause to your relationships when you're carried away by it can last forever. I don't blame you for snapping boy, but you've got to remember to keep your priorities straight. It may be election season but really, who is more important, your boss or your brother?"

America sat back in his chair shocked at England's words. It wasn't like him to be so open. Alfred didn't even care that he'd called him "boy".

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh, I...yeah. Okay. Thanks man. I'll uh..." he laughed lightly. "I'll take care of it."

England cleared his throat. "Yes, well, right then. I'll speak to you later."

One awkward goodbye later and Alfred was getting to his feet. He tore off the piece of paper with the stain in the shape of Nova Scotia and shoved it in his pocket before making his way out of his office, and then the White House completely, ignoring the questions of secretaries and politicians as he passed.

**A/N: I know, it sucks, I'm sorry. I'm off my game right now but I refuse to miss my regular update. I really believe the only way to deal with writer's block is to just force yourself through it without mercy.**


	20. The Rant

**A/N: First off I'm sorry this is a day late. I've been on the road all week and writing has been hard. Second there is really no way to explain how much I love you all for the reviews and messages of support I got last chapter. Thank you all so much! **

**About this chapter, the title should give away the content and serve as warning. **

**I'm nervous about this because I really don't want to do Matthew's character wrong and there had been some concern that he was too harsh earlier. I originally began writing Kryptonite as a way to get a feel for the characters of Canada and America and to try and figure out how to portray their relationship and so I really didn't think I could do that without trying my hand at Matthew's iconic rant. Granted a more serious version than Himaruya's. The boys are almost through this conflict, I promise, but since my purpose for writing this was to explore their relationship and learn how to write them for later fics I really couldn't do that without showing the bad along with the good. **

**What I'm really saying here is...I apologize in advance if I mangle Matthew's character in this attempt. Advice is always appreciated. My dream is for them to both be sympathetic but if I fall short understand it's my failing as a writer and not a reflection of how I see the character.**

**I had to tap into a dark place in my little American heart to write this which is another reason it took so long to get out. It was just difficult to write. I would stare at my screen going "Blargh. Do not want." God, I hate this chapter. **

**Chapter 20: The Rant **

Matthew was in the back of the cabin stirring the soup he was preparing for dinner when he was startled by a sudden incessant pounding on the door.

It took him a moment to calm down from the surprise but he figured it must be a military escort sent to retrieve him and bring him back to Ottawa. That had happened on occasion when he was caught away from the capital during natural disasters.

He didn't expect to find Alfred standing in front of his door, in snow over his ankles, and shaking like Latvia sitting on a washing machine.

"Bro it's cold!" He whined. "Let me in!"

Matthew moved aside and quickly shut the door. "Alfred..." he gaped. "The roads are completely iced over. I'm miles from town. How did you get here?"

Alfred skipped straight across the room to huddle by the fire. Matthew frowned at the filthy boot prints that were now tracked across his living room. "Al, your boots." he sighed.

"Oh! Sorry!" Alfred laughed kicking them off carelessly. He sprawled out on the floor and stuck his feet up on the hearth. "Christ on a cracker, Matthew! I don't know how you handle this shit. It's bad enough at my place and I have to hibernate. At least I can pop down to Key West or Southern California. If it was this fucking cold everywhere I think I'd just curl up and die."

Matthew felt his left eye twitch and he worked hard to maintain his small smile. "You used to be much better at handling the winter. Your southern states have spoiled you."

Internally he was thinking _'Well if you don't like it you can just go the fuck home.' _

He knew Alfred liked to huddle under a giant pile of blankets and sleep through the entire season but that didn't mean he could just invite himself up here in the middle of a blizzard and bitch about the weather like he didn't know what he was getting into. How did he get here anyway? Matthew still hadn't gotten his answer.

Alfred seemed to have decided that he was warm enough to move again as he got to his feet and made his way over to where Matthew was standing by the door and wrapped him in a tight hug.

Matthew smiled and hugged Alfred back certain he was about to hear the apology and explanation he'd been waiting for.

What he got instead was "Don't worry Sweetie, the hero is here."

"What?" Matthew stuttered pulling back from the embrace.

Alfred stroked Matthew's cheek and smiled. "I know you've been hit hard baby and i'm here to take care of you!"

"_are you kidding me?_" Matthew demanded even though he knew Alfred was dead serious. "aren't you a bit late?" He sneered "_Hero_?"

Alfred blinked but then quickly recovered. He shrugged and grinned. "Well I'm here now."

He reached a hand towards Matthew but was brushed away.

All this time he'd spent waiting for Alfred hoping he'd come through in the end with love and a little humility but no, of course not, only more ego and bravado.

"You know if you need any help repairing the damage from the storm baby, I've got the money."

Matthew quirked an eyebrow. "Don't you mean _China_ has the money?"

Alfred bristled. Matthew was sick and grumpy and Al knew he had a certain right to be angry with him but that was clearly an intentional jab, that wasn't like Matthew! He decided just to ignore it and laugh it off.

"Ha ha! Right bro, whatevs." He reached out and succeeded in snatching Matthew's hand. He put a little sugar in his voice as he continued. "I know you've been sick honey let me give you a massage."

Matthew bit his lip. He was mad at Alfred at the moment and wasn't sure he wanted him to touch him but on the other hand a massage sounded amazing, he really was so sore from the sudden storm, and it was sweet of Alfred to offer, maybe they could get through this yet.

He sighed. "Okay Al."

Alfred grinned, regaining his footing. He guided Matthew to the large sofa in front of the fire and stripped him of his sweater. Matthew lay flat on his belly on the sofa in just his soft cotton undershirt and blue jeans. Alfred straddled him, careful to rest his weight on his knees and not on Matthew.

For the moment they slipped into companionable silence as Alfred worked his brother's aching back with skilled, muscular hands.

Matthew relaxed under his brother's touch and began to remember why he'd missed Alfred in the first place.

Matthew sighed as Alfred loosened the last knotted muscle on his back and left him feeling warm and sleepy. He allowed himself to be pulled up into Alfred's embrace and to taste lips he'd gone too long without.

Perhaps if they hadn't decided to converse and had instead laid there content in each other's arms the entire night things would've gone differently but Alfred had always been a talker and too energetic to deal with the silence.

He twirled his fingers through Matthew's hair. "Man Mattie I've been so crazy busy. Sorry I couldn't be with you more this last month."

Matthew smiled. It wasn't exactly the gushing, heart wrenching apology he'd fantasized but it was an apology and that's what...

"Sometimes I wish I was less important like you. Then we'd have plenty of time together."

"Get off me!" Matthew snapped pushing himself forcefully out of Alfred's arms.

"What?" Alfred demanded.

"You're an asshole that's what!" Matthew pulled away from the hand that was reaching out for him.

"_less important_? If by less important you mean less power hungry, less greedy, less of a bully and less inclined to stick my nose in other people's business then yes I suppose I am less important."

"What's your problem?" Alfred sat up entirely. "I thought you were sick or something but apparently you have plenty of energy to start spouting off bullshit."

"Oh so sorry," Matthew sneered. "I'm not enough of a damsel in distress for the big hero, eh? What did you expect to find when you got up here? That i'd be crumpled in the corner, weeping, having waited for you for days crying _'oh Alfie, Alfie, I just couldn't go on without you!' _Is that what your sick ego needs?"

"Hey!" Alfred stood to defend himself. "What the hell? I hear you've had this big storm so I break away days before a presidential election and trek up here through this barren fucking wasteland of ice and snow literally carrying my truck at points and this is how you greet me? How about a little gratitude?"

"A barren fucking wasteland?" Matthew seethed "oh except when you want to import my lumber and petroleum. I see how it is."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Bro, seriously, I wasn't talking about Canada in general." He pointed out the window. "I was talking literally about that patch right out there which is, at the moment, pretty fucking barren and ice covered."

Matthew laughed, bitter and dry. "Don't roll your eyes at me like I'm being stupid. We all know who the idiot is here. Everybody knows."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Matthew knew he was crossing over into a place he'd been before on a few very strained occasions. A place where the line between the hard truth and using the insecurities of someone you loved against them out of anger became dangerously thin.

Alfred folded his arms. "Fine. Whatever. Join the 'everybody hates America' party. I hear the rest of the world is already attending. You think it makes a difference to me if you go?"

It was a lie. Matthew knew it was a lie and that was grimly satisfying. Sure, Alfred would just ignore him, neglect him, and belittle his significance intentionally or otherwise, but Matthew knew that if he were to ignore Alfred in return it would drive his twin insane. This knowledge gave him the drive to continue unrelentingly.

"You know it would. I bet in the few moments you don't spend deluding yourself about it, when the reality of how much everyone hates you sinks in, I bet it hurts like hell, doesn't it? Especially considering what a little attention whore you can be. Is that why you feel the need to shove your culture down everyone's throat?"

Alfred's blue eyes went wide. That hurt. That actually hurt. Matthew was being _mean_ to him and he was at a loss as to why. He'd taken time out of his busy schedule to come up here, hadn't he? He'd been showing him his love and affection, right? They'd had a great time in...in...was it September? Really, September? Well that was only about four weeks ago he reasoned, surely that wasn't so bad. Right?

As Alfred continued to grapple with his thoughts trying to work out exactly what he'd done or said to bring out this side of Matthew, Matthew stood in front of him shaking his head. It was painfully obvious how self-absorbed Alfred could be by the blank look in his eyes.

"Clueless," Matthew seethed. "you're completely clueless."

"What's your problem with me tonight, dude?" Alfred turned up his palms at a loss.

Matthew relished the straight line. "Tonight?" he laughed "Tonight? Alfred tonight wouldn't even begin to cover what's wrong with you. Oh and let's not call it _my_ problem, it's _your_ problem, or rather _problems._"

"Hey-" Alfred began but Matthew cut him off.

"No," He growled. "just shut up. For once why don't you just shut up and listen to me? I put my faith in you. I opened up to you about my concerns early on when I accepted this relationship and you just ground all your promises underfoot. I know you inside and out Alfred. All the little shadows that fall in between the beacons of false morality you light, those dark spots you try so hard to hide? I know them.

I suspected you were too weak, too flighty, too insubstantial to actually carry this relationship and..."

"Dammit!" Alfred snapped. "This is just the one thing and I've been busy and why the fuck is this such a big deal to you?"

"Oh the fact that you just blew me off like I was nothing after we...after I..." Matthew choked, not unable but very unwilling to express just how much it had hurt him that Alfred's lack of attention had occurred when it did, right after they'd first physically expressed their feelings. It had made Matthew feel like the entire experience meant nothing to Alfred. Matthew cleared his head and continued with a determined glare. "Nevermind that. The point is I would've forgiven you, you jerk! I would've forgiven you if you just had the decency to get your head out of your own ass long enough to realize you'd done something wrong. Fuck, I was stupid enough to think you'd come up here to _apologize_! But no, that would imply that the golden boy had done something wrong. Of course you came up here to _save_ me as if I needed saving!"

Matthew was speaking rapidly but clearly, every word set to pierce. It was impossible for Alfred to get a word in.

"I mean, yes," Matthew conceded. "it would've been nice to have you here to take care of me when I was ill, of course it would've but don't you think for a second that I _need_ you to. Is that okay with you Al? Can you handle that? Not being needed? Because I'm not sure you can."

Alfred slumped back onto the sofa. Matthew had taken to pacing the floor in front of him. He was shocked. He'd thought they were above this. He'd thought they knew each other intuitively, that Matthew would know he hadn't meant any harm...

"and it doesn't fucking matter if you didn't mean any harm by it!" Matthew snapped as if reading his thoughts. "because you still did it! Does that make sense at all? The fact that you didn't realize what you were doing or that you meant well doesn't absolve you of responsibility for your actions! At the least, at the very least, you could acknowledge your faults from time to time and apologize or at best, you could actually do something to change them!"

"Mattie," Alfred started "I didn't mean to..."

"Oh my god." Matthew stared at him shaking his head. "are you even listening? What did I just say? I doesn't matter if you didn't mean to. Am I wasting my breath here?"

While Alfred continued to repeat the same tired phrase, unwilling or unable to understand what Matthew was saying, and believing firmly that he should only ever be held accountable for his intentions, Matthew felt himself growing even more angry and frustrated.

Finally, he snapped.

"Why do I love you? Why? You've been violent and impatient since the day you were born. You buy everything with blood _everything_ from your independence to the abolition of slavery and the institution of civil rights." He spoke with fire in his eyes and slapped a hand against his chest. "Guess where the underground railroad ended, asshole! Right here!"

Alfred wanted to open his mouth to argue that it was American citizens making that migration possible and that even if it had been a struggle things had eventually gotten better, but Matthew didn't give him a moment to speak.

"Oh sure you eventually do the right thing but everything is a fight with you! It's unbelievable. It took the fucking _great depression_ for you to implement any kind of social security! What in hell is it going to take before you'll socialize healthcare like every other first world nation? You know if you paid attention to anything you might see a trend of history repeating itself here but that's the really frustrating thing about you Alfred _you never learn_. The most basic, basic things have to be fought for with you. Gay marriage isn't ruining _my_ social foundation, is it?"

Somehow for Alfred it was harder to fight when he was hearing these things from Matthew. From anyone else he could stand up, possibly punch them in the face, at the least tell them to mind their own damn business and that his domestic politics certainly were _not _their business, but from Matthew...from Matthew it was hard.

Arthur, Francis, Ivan, anyone else would've gotten a punch in the mouth and a lecture but for Matthew their was only a choked attempt at getting through to him.

"Dammit Matthew, _I'm trying_!" Alfred couldn't handle this right now. Not now, right before an election when the deeply rooted polarization of his country was so brutally exposed. When 300 million voices were organized into two contrasting choruses that could never, never harmonize were left screeching like banshees in his head all he wanted from Matthew was peace, quiet, love and devotion and for their to be one thing in the world that he could always count on, that Matthew would always love him, would always bear with him, and to have that ripped from him when he needed it most was unbelievably painful.

"and you've always been so self-involved! So unbelievably egotistical!" Matthew continued.

"Manifest destiny! Fucking manifest destiny! Are you a sociopath? And you criticized Arthur for being an empire, you damn hypocrite!"

Matthew gestured wildly, running on pure adrenaline and righteous anger.

"and the Cold War! The Cold War! What in the hell was that? You and Russia, you deserve each other! you're both violent, cruel,dangerously childish, and disgusting egotistical, how could you do that to the world? You held us all hostage to your turbulent power plays for decades under constant threat of nuclear war!"

Matthew pulled his own hair. "and I always went right along with you like a fool believing all your empty rhetoric. God! All that arms race did was leave this world a much more dangerous place!"

"but Russia..." Al defended halfheartedly.

"I'm not excusing him." Matthew clarified. "I know, I fucking _know_ that you both genuinely believed you were paragons of justice but that doesn't make it true and that doesn't make what you both did to the world okay. I'm not in love with Russia," Matthew pleaded, hating himself. "I'm not trying to get him to look at his choices. For fuck's sake Alfred, for fuck's sake, and Alfred, this is just the important stuff, like that if you would just cut your military spending _a little _and keep yourself out of fights you could still have the world's largest military which is apparently _so fucking important to you _and have plenty of money to support education and healthcare. I haven't even touched the petty but _very telling_ things about you like your pointless refusal to switch to the metric system. You want the whole world to love you, you want to be the hero, but you refuse to cooperate with anyone or work within the confines of the international community! You want me to love you but you're not willing to put the work into our relationship."

Matthew glared at his brother, forcing himself to ignore the way his twin had been reduced to desperate sobbing and dealt a final blow.

"Do you really love me? I mean genuinely love me, or is it just that I was the only one that would have you?" His smile was tight and cold. "Because trust me. I'm the only one who would."

The prolonged, uninterrupted talking had left Matthew's throat hoarse and he was swaying with dizziness not having been on his feet this long since he'd gotten sick. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

"Whatever." He sighed. "You probably won't even give this a second thought. I'm going to bed."

When he woke up the next morning, rested, calm, and horrified at losing his composure he found that Alfred had disappeared.

**A/N: this entire rant would've been much funner if I used the sassy gay friend meme.**

**Alternate version for the squeamish (like me): **

**"What are you doing? What, what WHAT are you doing? Look at your life! Look at your choices! Alfred, you stupid bitch."**

**As is it is kind of depressing and possibly offensive but this is Hetalia so hopefully we can all handle that. **


	21. Only Human

**A/N: I don't have much to say about this. This is the point where I either manage to write a satisfactory reconciliation after completely knocking everything down last chapter or I fail the story and all of you. I'm in a long term committed relationship that's had a few fights that it seemed like there was no going back from so hopefully I can pull it off, if I don't then I apologize. **

**I know my craft is flawed and i'm working on it. **

**Chapter 21: Only Human**

Alfred went home but he refused to go back to work. Calls from the white house caused him to unplug his phone from the wall and turn off his cell. To hell with the election he was too busy nursing his wounds to care. How could Matthew do that to him?

Matthew could knock him down but Alfred knew it was up to him to get up off his knees and carry on.

It was just that getting that strength back might take a little time. He tried not to judge himself too harshly for not being able to brush this off like he could anything else.

This was Matthew after all, his personal Achille's heel. Every hero had a weakness and for Alfred it was the one closest to him.

So that was all Matthew thought of him? Violent, irrational, conceited?

If Matthew really knew him as well as he claimed he did why did it seem that he didn't understand Alfred's feelings at all?

Alfred dropped the tiny marshmallows into his cocoa and paced the floor of his kitchen waiting for the drink to cool.

After the civil war it had been like he was trying to hold together two bitterly divided parts of himself. He'd fought so hard just to protect a union that had been tenuously held together ever since. Secession out of the question it was now like one half continually fought to swallow the other. Both legitimate parts of him, he often felt like the sole bipartisan voice crying out for peace and rationality.

He had been so divided, always so divided, from birth. One faction was always pitted against the other whether it was Loyalists and Patriots, Confederates and Unionists, Republicans or Democrats, all were equally his and there ended their common ground.

In spite of this deep divide his people had managed to create beautiful things, useful things, they'd contributed to the world and defined themselves as a nation. They'd made amazing advances and had much to be proud of.

It wasn't so much that Matthew criticized him that hurt, it was more the way he'd just left him there as if he couldn't think of a single compliment to dull his words. As if he could be summarized by his failings alone.

_'Why do I love you?' _He'd asked, and for Alfred that had hurt him so much more than the insinuation that no one else would. It was the implication that Matthew couldn't come up with a reason that had burned.

His bravado, his overt and intense patriotism was a necessity when he constantly felt like he was just short of being torn apart, by himself or by the judgment of the outside world. If he didn't believe in himself, how could he expect others to?

Maybe his pride kept people from understanding how deeply he felt his own mistakes, maybe it masked that and led to the kind of image of him that Matthew had painted for him last night? Either way it didn't change the fact that he did feel them, just as sharply as he felt his triumphs even if he didn't proclaim it as loudly.

There was little he could use to define himself more than his deep, deep need to be the hero. To do right and to reach for the highest goal. This had led him astray more than once, it had led him to manic heights convinced of his own morality and infallibility and only in retrospect could he see errors in his judgment when he inevitably came down .

On the other hand, it had led him to beautiful, legitimate triumphs of creativity. It had led him to his brightest moments as well as his darkest but he wouldn't trade it for anything. When you try to be the best, you risk being the worst, but Alfred could never bring himself to be cautious and to play it safe watching his own behavior carefully. If he had then he wouldn't be who he was today and though he felt his flaws acutely he was still proud of who he was, of his people and the things they'd created. The possibility of flying higher than ever before was too tempting to care that his wings might be made of wax. Sometimes he'd had to fall, but he'd also soared higher than ever before.

He could handle criticism from anyone, even from Matthew if he had to, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. When it all became too much sometimes he just wanted to withdraw back to isolation but he'd never meant for that to include being isolated from Canada.

He'd fucked up, England had been right about that, but that rant...it was like Matthew couldn't see any good in him at all, and that stung.

_'I will not call England.'_ Alfred repeated to himself. _'I do not need to call England this is none of his business and I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own.'_

Of course he ended up with a phone in his hand.

"Bloody hell." an angry, familiar voice answered. "Do you have any idea how late it is here you gormless yank, or would that involve too much mathematics for you?"

"I think Matthew hates me!" Alfred whined, ignoring the insult.

On the other end of the phone Arthur felt his ire melting away. He couldn't help it when Alfred sounded so much like the distraught little colony he'd once been when his brother had run away from him for playing too rough. He sat up in bed and tried not to be too satisfied with himself. He did love the rare times that Alfred actually came to him like this. It made him feel needed again.

"Matthew does not hate you."

"He does!" Al protested. "He hates me and that's just totally complete bullshit I can't even begin..."

"I assume this means you managed to make a mess of things?"

Alfred ran a hand through his hair and frowned. This was getting fucking _old_.

"Dude, seriously, can we not blame everything on me tonight? I really can't deal with it right now."

"Ah," Arthur sighed remembering the last time he'd had to calm Matthew down from one of his tirades.

"Went off on you did he? He does that."

"I don't get it!" Alfred complained taking a seat at his kitchen table and sipping his cocoa. "He acts like he knows me so well but yet he can't empathize with me at all?"

"Now don't jump the gun, lad." Arthur replied. "It's probable he just lost his temper. He's a sweet boy, if you give him time he'll come around."

"Thanks Artie," Alfred sighed "You're being really helpful bro. Waiting for him to come around doesn't exactly fix the problem, does it? I mean some of the things he said, I can agree with, some I beat myself up for everyday, others I vehemently disagree with but I just..." Alfred sat down his cocoa and rested his weary head in one hand. "I just don't know. How could he tear me up like that and act like it isn't shit?"

"Don't be a brat." Arthur began with no malice in his voice. His grumpy words more out of habit than anything. "You're the one who woke me up in the wee hours of the morning. Listen, you're both still very young. You have many years of history ahead of you. Don't bemoan the failings of your relationship with Canada as if they were so severe. If you want to hear about a dysfunctional sibling relationship go ahead and call Scotland, I'm sure he can give you an earful on the subject. I don't want to discourage you from examining your flaws, it's something we all need to do in order to better ourselves, but you're not such a bad egg, Alfred. In all the years I've been around I've seen and done worse. You just have to keep growing. Through all the hate and the criticisms you just have to go on trying to do right. It's the only way to get a gentleman out of a pirate. You have a good heart America, even if you have a hard head. I'm confident you'll turn out right. As much as it pains me to admit, you've done all right for yourself. You always were a bright boy if a bit dense. Don't bother about the contradiction. Some of the most honest statements are contradictions."

Alfred blushed. "Oh sh-shut up old man. Jesus, you trying to make me sick or something? I need a coke to wash down all that crap."

"Ingrate." Arthur chuckled. "Now pay attention brat because this is the last piece of advice I'm going to give you and I don't want anymore 4am phone calls. Understand? You and Canada may seem inherently similar but you're not. Trust me, I would know. Canada is completely unique. He's not me, he's not France and he's not you. He has his own unique failings and strengths. No nation gets through their life without blood on their hands but comparatively speaking he's something of an innocent. That's something for him to be proud of or at least grateful for. He's never been afraid to fight, he's followed me to war on more than one occasion and fought valiantly, but he's also never had to make a lot of the decisions your or I have had and I hope he never does. He's good at keeping to himself, he's independent and has much to be proud of in that independence, not just from some foreign power but from anyone's idea of who he ought to be or what he ought to want. He manages his affairs well and gets along with just about everyone. This is why it's easier for him to judge than it is for him to empathize sometimes, you see? He hasn't made the mistakes we've made. Because when it comes down to it Alfred,"

and here Arthur sighed.

"You're more like I was in my youth than I would wish on anyone. Things are different because you're growing up in a different time with different values and different technology but I can still see that same dangerous glint of invincibility in your eyes. The same hunger. You're on top of the world and that comes with some justified pride but what you don't understand, what you're too young to understand yet, is that these things are ephemeral. I'm speaking from experience. Let your fire cool to quite resolution, focus on building yourself up at home and you'll get through anything. Keep your pride, remember your strengths, hold your head high and go have a long, serious talk. If you can manage to sit still that long. Now," Arthur began to wind up his monologue.

"I'm going back to sleep. Keep calm and carry on. England out."

With that he hung up leaving Alfred sitting at his kitchen table shaking his head and laughing softly.

If England could do this, could come back from all his regrets, all the shadows of his past and his empire days then he could sure as hell get through this little fit of the blues and remember who he was.

He would never give up. He would continue fighting to reconcile the dueling voices and to do what was best for his country. He would change, grow, and retain the characteristics he was so proud of while ruthlessly cutting away the bad just as he had always striven to do.

He was America the fucking brave and he wasn't going to lose the person who meant the most to him in the world without a fight. If they could get over the revolution, over 1812, then some petty misunderstandings, disagreements, and possible anger management issues on Matthew's part were not going to do them in. As far as international relations went there's were actually pretty fucking awesome and he aimed to maintain them.

He wouldn't let his enthusiasm be dimmed by some harsh words, and he wouldn't give up on Matthew because of them either.

He had a plan. A completely epic, totally heroic plan that would put Hollywood to shame.

He nearly knocked over his cocoa in his eagerness to plug in the kitchen phone and dial the pentagon.

"Yo," He gasped into the receiver when someone picked up on the other line. "It's America. You guys got those beavers? I need 'em."

….

Back at his cabin Matthew had made a pot of tea in an attempt to calm his nerves. He'd warned himself not to cross that line between justifiable anger and cruelty. He'd known he was walking along a delicate border and he'd just barely slipped across it. At some point he'd gone from airing legitimate grievances to lashing out and trying to hurt his twin and he knew where. It would've started building up with the name calling and come to a climax around the time he'd accused him of being completely unlovable.

He slumped back in his arm chair and shook his head. "Way to fuck up, Williams, way to fuck up."

He doubted that he would be able to take him back if Alfred ever insinuated he was the only one who would have him. So how could he expect his twin to do any differently?

Of course that was probably because when he said that he wasn't just tapping into one of Alfred's many insecurities, he was tapping into one of his own biggest fears.

_'You're not unlovable Al,'_ he talked to him in his head._ 'and I'm not the only one who'd have you. Fuck. Sometimes I feel so invisible and you're always so confident and I...I was just speaking out of my own hurt.'_

He sat there replaying in his head all the ways he could've salvaged last night. He could've stopped himself short of that one hateful line, he could've stayed calm and said what he needed to say without malice, he could've at least stopped when Alfred started to sob.

He could've comforted him, remembered why he loved him, and they could've talked it out calmly.

He felt like an ass. Sure he believed a lot of what he'd said simply needed to be said but he knew he didn't have to do it the way he'd done it. He'd lost his cool and now Alfred was gone and Matthew had no idea how he felt about last night. Was he angry? Was he hurt? Would he speak to him again? When?

Would an apology be enough?

Yes, they'd been through worse, through so so much worse but it felt a little different now since they'd become lovers, as if they were interacting on a more human level than ever before.

As electricity had been restored to his area that morning he decided to turn on the TV and see how things were progressing with the damage control after the storm. Hopefully it would take his mind off of Alfred until he was in a position to actually go and talk to him. There was no point in beating himself up about it. He and Al just needed to have a long, serious talk when they were both level headed.

He clicked over to the news and had to steady himself before he dropped his teacup.

_'This afternoon the American military gifted Canada with 100 genetically engineered titanium-toothed super beavers to assist in clean up of this weekend's unexpected storm. Apparently the beavers are capable of plowing through sheets of solid ice and reducing entire trees to mulch within minutes. _

_Opinions polls indicate that the Canadian public is deeply confused by this gesture. Many people polled assumed it was some kind of misguided joke. Debbie in Saskatoon wrote in saying "It's obviously some kind of strange prank. Canada and beavers. Ha ha. Get new material please." . Others see it as essentially goodhearted if odd. Bill in New Brunswick where the beavers are already being put to use says "They're very effective and kind of cute if you squint." Animal rights groups in both countries are demanding inquiry into how the beavers were created and their treatment during the process. Meanwhile the government is in a tizzy over where to house the beavers once the clean up is complete and how their maintenance will be paid for. The RCMP is staunchly against sharing their stables with the flat tailed beasts. The commissioner is quoted as saying "Fuck no. We don't want them." Environmentalists are in an uproar over the possible damage the beavers could cause to Canadian wildlife if not carefully controlled. The overall consensus is that this gift, and the conception of the beavers in the first place, was a very bad idea but urm, thanks anyway America?' _

"Alfred you ridiculous bastard." Matthew smacked his forehead repeatedly. What the hell was he going to do with those beavers? Alfred was just going to have to take them back, that's what!

"Some boyfriends give you herpes," Matthew muttered to himself. "mine gives me potentially ecosystem destabilizing super beavers. I really don't know which is worse."

He reached up and felt a tear forming in the corner of his eye. The hysterical laughter he'd felt form at Alfred's mad, childish plans turned in his throat and shattered into a broken sob.

His Alfred, his crazy Alfred, so full of dreams. So full of innovations. Whatever could be said about Al, good or bad, he was one of a kind.

_'One of a beautiful, shining kind.' _Matthew muttered as he wiped tears from his eyes.

He never had a dream he didn't follow even if sometimes those dreams seemed to fall out of Saturday morning cartoons.

Alfred was kind of like a big kid. A cross between a genius and a ditz, always full of smiles and restless, pent up creative energy that threatened to burst out of him at any moment.

_'Matthew'_ he remembered Alfred turning to him one warm summer night not too many decades ago as they gazed up at the stars._ 'I'm going to the moon.'_

He'd laughed at the luminescent smile on Alfred's face _'No way!' _

_'I'm serious!' _Alfred had protested, growing more excited as he spoke._ 'I'm doing it dude. It's going to be awesome. You'll see!'_

And he did. And it was.

Just as years before he'd told him he was going to fly and the Wright brothers came along to make amazing advances in aviation.

He was entitled to those superman pajamas.

Alfred made life fun. He brightened up his world with his antics and his enthusiasm and above all his _dreams. _His rambling, colorful, vibrant dreams that he loved to make reality with those calloused hands that Matthew knew so well. If he never got to hold those hands again, he didn't know what he'd do.

Matthew had other friends, other brothers, people who loved him and visited him and enriched his life but for better or worse he only had one twin and in countries even more than in humans that relationship was rare.

He only had one _Alfred._

One Alfred who he'd completely cut down last night and was back on his feet today, refusing to be knocked down and apparently _hopefully _refusing to give up on him.

Waiting for him was excruciating. Matthew knew he was coming.

"_Alfred._" Matthew sighed and wrung his hands.

Catching sight of himself in his mirror he slowed down, took a deep breath and reminded himself he was nearly 400 years old and they'd been through way worse.

"Come on Williams," He chided his mirror-self. "This is nothing! Remember signing the Treaty of Ghent? How awkward, how _painful_ it was to see him then? But it was okay. We moved on."

When the tell-tell knocking finally came Matthew nearly jumped out of his skin.

Alfred was standing there in his favorite bomber jacket, a rare serious look on his face.

"Hey bro. I guess you know we need to talk."

Matthew bit his lip. "I know Al. I lost my temper. I'm so sorry."

Alfred took his hand as he moved into the cabin. "It's going to be fine."

"Is it?" Matthew queried.

Alfred frowned. "I think so. I mean...yeah, of course dude."

Matthew tittered about as Alfred took a seat on the sofa.

"Would you like some tea? I have some syrup. I know you like it sweet."

Alfred waved him off. "Nah it's cool."

Matthew rubbed the back of his neck compulsively and took a seat in the armchair facing Alfred.

"Okay. Alright. Let's do this, eh? Do you want to go first or should I?"

"I'll start." Alfred grinned. "You know I like to talk."

Matthew laughed and tried to let it calm him but it didn't quite make it to his heart.

"So I was reading this er, relationship book Francis gave me and I think it's best if I start by admitting my own faults and then go from there..."

"You were reading?" Matthew gasped and then quickly added "um, reading a relationship book I mean?" _'Shit shit shit.' _He swore internally._ 'Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up.'_

Alfred took it in stride. "Duh. I mean, I don't have a lot of experience with this, do I? I've always been pretty happily self-contained, you know? I've been busy with my hobbies and my goals and my own things."

Matthew nodded and waited for Al to go on.

"So I guess first I need to say I'm sorry for blowing you off. You're always so quiet and patient and I guess I just assumed you'd always be there for me and I didn't think about the fact that you'd need anything in return which was really stupid of me because I mean, duh, you have needs too and I guess I should be more sensitive to your moods and um, stuff. Kiku always goes on about "reading the mood" I guess I need to try and read your moods more..."

Alfred curled his feet up under him and leaned against the arm of the couch.

"but dude, you know me, you know I'm not good at that kind of thing so if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to be clearer about things. Like if you try to drop me hints or whatever because you don't want to come out with it, sorry bro, but it's just not going to work. Tell me if something is bothering you. Like hit me over the head with the phonebook about it. I'm not going to get mad at you."

Alfred sighed and brought his eyes level with Matthew's.

"And most importantly Matt don't ever do what you did to me last night again. I can't handle it. It hurts way too much and the worst part is I know at some point, you wanted it to hurt. I just can't take it when you do things like that to me, especially now. I trust you Matthew, more than anyone, because your opinion actually matters to me I will listen to you as best I can, just be patient with me. Don't lose your temper. Don't hurt me because _fuck_ you know me too well. It's too easy for you to break me apart and I need to trust you not to abuse that. I need to know I can put my insecurities in your hands and you won't use them against me. I'm not saying you can't tell me when you think I'm wrong, that you can't criticize me, you can, just not like that. Okay? Never like that."

Matthew nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He'd never meant to do that to Alfred. _His Alfred._ He'd just snapped. He never wanted to hurt him like that again.

"I won't. I'm sorry Al, I'm so sorry. We countries, our land gives us much of our character but it is our people who give us life and in the end we're almost too human for our own good. We make mistakes, we have flaws. We hurt each other intentionally and unintentionally and the best we can do is refuse to do the former and try to minimize how often we do the latter. I know I had good reasons to be upset with you but I crossed a line when it came to how I expressed it. Alfred I...I love you. Please don't ever think that I don't. If I'm ever upset or frustrated with you, that doesn't change that. "

"There was truth in some of what you said Matthew," Alfred conceded. "I know that, but a lot of it was just you speaking out of anger."

Matthew tentatively crossed the room and sat next to his brother. "I know Al, I didn't mean what I said about no one wanting you, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I lost my temper. I'm sorry I kept my feelings inside until they exploded. I'm sorry I wasn't more clear."

Alfred wrapped Matthew in his arms with a cautiousness he was not usually capable of, as if afraid he would disappear if grasped too tight.

"I know you are Matthew, I do stupid shit when I'm mad too, but sweetie you've got to understand, You're the person whose opinion matters most to me, you're the person with the most power in the world to hurt me. You've got to be careful with that. I promise to listen to you from now on when you have a legitimate complaint but baby don't ever say things you don't mean."

He brushed a stray lock of Matthew's hair from beside his face. "because I will believe them."

_'I could believe the boldest lies if you said them'_ Alfred thought to himself _'because you're like an angel to me and I love you and I romanticize you and maybe that's stupid of me when we're all so imperfect, but I can't help it...'_

Matthew took Alfred's hand in his and caressed it gently with his fingertips. Flipping it over he traced the lines of his palm as if dragging a highlighter across the neatly typed sentences of a history book.

"In our centuries of history it's not like this is the worst conflict we've ever come back from. I suppose it's just a little different now that we're lovers. It..it brings a certain human element to things, doesn't it?

Alfred made a soft hum of consent and rested his head on Matthew's shoulder.

"We'll always get through it." Alfred assured him. "Whatever it is we'll always get through it. If England and I can come back around to being allies after the revolution then I'm sure we can overcome anything that tries to divide us."

"North America forever, eh?" Matthew mumbled against Alfred's lips before claiming them in a kiss.

Passionate, deep and needy, they tried to express all the things they were both still too raw from their conflict to say bluntly.

When the kiss broke Alfred had regained his vibrant smile.

"Things are going to change for the better, Mattie. I'll pay more attention to you, you'll be clearer for me. Things will be good."

Matthew nodded. "I will. I know I should've said something sooner, given you more of a chance."

Alfred smiled. "and I'm sorry I took you for granted Mattie."

"Oh Al," Matthew hugged him tightly around the waist. "I'm sorry I took you for granted too, because I did, Al, I really did. Please don't ever forget how wonderful you are. You make me smile and laugh when no one else can and for as much as I tease you about being a dolt you've done some really, really amazing things Alfred, some shockingly amazing things, and to be honest I find your ditziness kind of, okay, _really_ cute but don't think for a minute that I actually believe you're _stupid_ Alfred because I know better than that. "

"Ah, Can it Canada!" Alfred blushed and rubbed his eyes, which were damp this time with happiness, on Matthew's sweater.

They lay there for a long time in silence, content just to touch each other and to reaffirm that they could. They both knew there would be other fights, other days when they felt like falling apart, but maybe now they would be better equipped to deal with them.

Finally Matthew propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at the other nation sprawled out below him on the couch. "Seriously though America, you're not sticking me with these beavers. They will wreck such shop on the taiga."

As Alfred sat up to argue Matthew couldn't hide a hopeful smile that slowly things would go back to normal.

"Pssh! You're just jealous you didn't think of super beavers first!"

**A/N: So next chapter will involve more making up as the boys go about their night. I know they still have a lot of talking to do. I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this. I really wanted to update earlier (because of how jarring last chapter was) but it just wasn't happening. Thank you all so so so so much for your thoughtful reviews. I wish I could articulate better how much each one means to me and I just really hope that I can bring my vision for this fanfic to fruition somehow in a way that everyone is fulfilled. I tried to interject a little humor there with the beavers plus I just think that's the kind of thing Alfred would do...**


	22. Blackened Not Burnt

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews. :) Some of you picked up on the fact that I've been down lately & I admit I was going through a rough patch last week with some stuff IRL but things are looking up now. The story is coming to a close soon and I have to say I'm extremely grateful that I've received such positive reviews. I know that some reviewers have been concerned with either my portrayal of either Matthew or Alfred and I just want to let you know I hear you and I'll be keeping your opinions in mind over this next week while I re-read and do some much needed edits. (The sentence fragments! Oh my god the sentence fragments!) I can't make any huge changes obviously but I'll be looking to see if/where I may have gone wrong with the characterization and will see if I can tweak any minor details to make things a bit better. **

**In this chapter: shameless gratuitous make up sex. Thanks to Ratsister for the chapter title. **

**Chapter 22: Blackened Not Burnt**

It was decided that the beavers would stay in U.S army custody and far away from Canada's boreal forests. Matthew did thank him with a soft kiss on his cheek and Alfred promised he could borrow them whenever he wanted.

"Are you hungry?" Matthew asked. "I think I have some chicken I could cook."

"Dude," Alfred laughed. "You know you never have to ask if I'm hungry."

Alfred followed Matthew to the kitchen and hopped up on the counter, curling his legs under him.

He watched Matthew with a soft kind of fascination as he went about heating up oil in the pan and collecting ingredients for a simple stir fry. Matthew tutted about how he had no room to work with Alfred sitting on the counter as he was but made no real attempt to dislodge him from his perch.

It was nice to have someone to cook for other than Kumajiro, it was especially nice that this person was Alfred. They moved cautiously in the aftermath of their clash. Relief permeated the air but also a tension that only time and talk would erase.

The reasons for their fight seemed so trivial to them both now but words, or their absence, could leave deep wounds. They had a lot of history, predominantly good with a few noticeable blemishes, but they were both aware that at least on a personal level they were opening a new chapter.

_'At least,' _Matthew thought with a private smile as he cut the chicken into thin strips_ 'I know we're in this together now.'_

He'd give anything to take back the way he'd hurt Alfred last night but it did have the unintended consequence of opening up a much needed dialogue.

The fact that Alfred had been willing to come back, to talk, and to forgive him when he could've easily and understandably decided to scrap the new side of their relationship that they were pioneering, had done much to erase Matthew's fears that this was some passing interest and that Al would eventually forget him again.

_'Of course he did forget me and take me for granted,_' Matthew thought_ 'and was his usual oblivious self but then I had to go and pick him apart like an asshole...'_ he sighed. _'but these things happen, eh?_

_We can work on it together...'_

"What's with the mopey sigh?" Alfred asked reaching out one socked foot to rub against Matthew's leg snapping him out of his inner monologue.

"Nothing love."

Alfred nudged him harder with his foot. "Hey! You gotta tell me stuff now, remember?"

Matthew laughed and turned from what he was doing to take Alfred's face in his hands.

"Hush. I was just thinking how we managed to make a royal mess of things..."

"Excuse me," Alfred interjected "but when I make a mess of things I make a _presidential_ mess of things."

Matthew kissed him softly. "As you like, love."

Alfred wrapped his legs around Matthew's waist and drew him close until his knees were solidly against the counter and Alfred's arms were twined around him.

Soft lips brushed together tentatively, flushing rose as they connected.

There was something divine, Matthew thought, about the simple things like the way Alfred's lips parted

willing, giving him his trust and his love, his tongue drawing him in with gentle strokes.

He could've stayed that way forever if it wasn't for the sound of the oil popping in the pan.

"Matthew! No! Not the food!" Alfred flailed as Matthew pulled away to quickly remove the chicken from the heat.

"It's okay, It's okay," Matthew reassured him. "The oil was just going over it's smoke point the chicken itself isn't so bad...we'll just call it blackened, okay?"

Alfred nodded. "Whatever bro, as long as it's edible."

Matthew shook his head as he lowered the heat and turned the chicken. "Sometimes I don't know why I put effort into this at all. You'd eat anything."

"_Because you love me._" Alfred singsonged with a wicked grin, swinging his legs and letting them fall against the counter. He told himself that it wasn't an act and that he wasn't just asking for reassurance in a round about way.

"That and I have some pride in my cooking but," Matthew smiled. "yes, yes I do."

It was more the silence that tipped Matthew off that something was wrong than anything else.

Alfred was never quiet if he was happy. He'd always be going off about something new and exciting that had caught his attention. It was usually a new game from Japan or some Hollywood movie he was sure would be the next blockbuster.

He let Alfred continue his silent staring while he finished the chicken and veggie stir fry. Only when it was done and piled onto two plates and they had taken their seats at the small kitchen table did Matthew ask if Alfred still needed to talk.

Matthew knew his brother didn't enjoy these kind of conversations. He rarely sat down and spoke to him as seriously as he had earlier. Alfred preferred to keep things on a lighter, more cheerful note so Matthew thought it would be easiest for him if he had something to distract him while they talked, some props to rely on if it was too much.

"You're quiet Al," He said in a hushed tone feeling guilty that he was the reason. "so I know you're upset. Do you want to talk some more or should I give you time?"

Alfred shifted in his seat and slowed his ravenous chewing to a normal speed in order to consider Matthew's words.

Of course, Matt's words still stung, these things took time to get over, he just wasn't sure if he wanted to do anymore talking or just deal with it himself. To talk about it was to risk more misunderstandings,

disappointments or disagreements but if he just kept his feelings to himself then he couldn't be sure they wouldn't come back out and manifest themselves in some ugly, unexpected way. Wasn't that where Matthew had gone wrong? Not speaking up and airing his grievances soon enough, while he was still in control of them?

Still, most of what was bothering him wasn't really questions that needed answers. It was just a lingering hurt and a need for reassurance. He didn't want to sound like a clingy child. He also didn't want to let on how hurt he actually was both for pride's sake and because he didn't want Matt to feel bad. They'd both messed up and he just wanted to move on.

It was Matthew's hand on his forearm that urged him to just go for it and to hell with pride.

"Do you like me?"

Matthew was taken back by the question. "What?"

Alfred swallowed and continued. "Well I know you love me but is it like, we've been through so much together you sort of feel like you have to or something, like with annoying family members or...you know, do you actually like me? Because sometimes I feel like I annoy everybody and..."

He was really blushing too much to continue so he finished his sentence with a dismissive wave.

"Al! That's crazy!" Matthew snapped. "What are you talking about? Of course I like you! If you were like an annoying relative I just tolerated I wouldn't sleep with you would I? I wouldn't be mad when you didn't call me. I wouldn't spend most of my weekends driving or flying south to visit you would I? I mean, most people don't crawl into bed with their loud aunt Rose who brings the bad casserole to thanksgiving. You know what I mean?"

Alfred's smile was smaller than his usual toothy grin but it was just as genuine.

"Who's Rose and why haven't I met her? If her cooking's that bad she must be from England's side of the family..."

Matthew shook his head. "Well if she existed, probably. Seriously though Alfie, you're fantastic. I have more fun with you than anyone else, you know? Sure you're loud, brash, and crazy but the flip side of that is unpretentious, honest and full of ideas."

Alfred felt a pool of happiness well up in his stomach. "I don't remember the last time someone paid me a compliment...well no, actually, that's a lie, Artie said I was 'bright if dense' or something like that earlier."

Matthew frowned. He knew how it felt to feel unappreciated. It had just never occurred to him that his loud, seemingly conceited, brother might feel that way.

He supposed it was easy for anyone, himself included, to forget that Al wasn't always as shallow as his hyperactive, overly optimistic demeanor might lead one to believe.

When they finished their dinner Matthew gathered up the plates and rinsed them in the sink. Alfred had cheered up significantly over their conversation and he followed Matthew across the kitchen like a puppy, bouncing on his heels and going on about the design for his newest fighter jet. Alfred's ability to bounce back and to find happiness within himself was something Matthew loved (and sometimes envied) about his brother. He was happy just to listen to him ramble.

"So I told them we should put a shark fin on the top of it but they said to me that was frivolous and I was like if by frivolous you mean fucking awesome."

Alfred wrapped his arms around Matthew from behind and sighed happily. "I've got a new game from Japan I've been dying to try out too but haven't had time what with the election. Honestly though I'm glad to be away from all of that and here with you."

"Matthew stopped drying the dishes and turned around to face Alfred hooking his fingers in Alfred's belt loops and pulling him close. "I'm glad you're here too. We've both had a really rough few weeks. Why don't we go to bed early tonight, eh?"

His words provoked a sudden noticeable shift in Alfred. His eyes widened, then narrowed, and his bright grin turned to a smirk. His head came down from the clouds and all of his attention was focused on Matthew. "Oh?" He purred, drawing in close. "It has been a long time."

Their time apart had left them both needy and aching, both physically and emotionally, for each other.

Alfred leaned forward and inhaled the familiar indefinable scent of Matthew.

Alfred attached himself to Matthew's neck loving the feeling of the soft, pale flesh beneath his lips.

Alfred's teeth grazed softly over Matthew's clavicle and his tongue traced the contours of the bone teasing the sensitive flesh stretched over it. Alfred sucked, licked and bit all along the soft curve of Matthew's neck and along his shoulder leaving a string of gentle, possessive bruises. He needed this.

To hold Matthew, to claim him, to feel Matthew respond willingly to that claim, and to know that he was loved. He pushed Matthew firmly against the counter but was careful to check his strength. For one thing he knew his unnatural strength was something he had to carefully control, and for another Matthew had been sick. He pinned Matthew against the counter with his hips and ground against him, pleased that he could feel his partner's arousal through his thin pajama pants. His own cock was hard and straining against the rough fabric of his jeans. Matthew bucked his hips forward responding eagerly to Alfred's thrusts. He groaned as their cocks rubbed together. It had been too long, far too long.

He buried his hands in Alfred's hair and pulled him back from his neck in order to claim his lips with his own. Alfred was more than happy to respond in kind, twining his hands in Matthew's soft golden waves and thrusting his tongue eagerly into his lover's warm mouth. He loved stroking Matthew's tongue with his own and swallowing the quiet whimpers and moans that rose up from Matthew's throat.

When they broke for air the look on Matthew's face sent fire spiraling in Alfred's core. His beloved was panting slightly, the effects of his cough making him easily short of breath, his head was slightly lowered and his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were intense and darkened with lust peering up at him through half closed eyes and dark lashes that feathered across his eyelids proud as the spread of peacock's plumage.

Alfred cupped Matthew's chin and raised his head so those beautiful eyes were level with his own.

"Can I take you, Mattie?" He asked punctuating his sentence with a desperate thrust.

Matthew's first response was not entirely coherent. It was a sudden weakness in his knees, an unconscious thrust in return, and a desperate moan that escaped his lips before he could stop it.

His second response, as pink spread fast and hard across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears, was only slightly more articulate.

"I...God yes...fuck..._please, Alfred_."

The truth was the minute those pleading words had left Alfred's lips Matthew's mind had been suddenly arrested with visions of himself pinned, spread, and beautifully, blindingly filled and writhing on Alfred's cock for the first time; He wanted nothing more than to know what it would feel like to be fucked by him.

When Alfred let out a sound in response so low, so resoundingly guttural and so primal that it could only be classified as an inhuman growl Matthew felt his sense leave him completely.

Alfred lifted him by the ass and Matthew eagerly wrapped his legs tightly around Alfred's waist. His arms looped naturally around Alfred's neck and his mouth found Alfred's own. They never broke their kissing once as Alfred carried him as if his weight were nothing down the hall and towards Matthew's bedroom.

Alfred carelessly kicked the door open and Matthew was too lost in the moment to care as Alfred lay him down on the bed and didn't hesitate an instant before beginning to strip him. He peeled off Matthew's sweater and undershirt in one rough movement tossing them aside. He lay kisses all along the bruises he had left on Matthew's neck before and took a moment to trace his hand over the fair skin and effortlessly defined muscles of Matthew's chest before proceeding to pajama bottoms.

"So gorgeous Mattie." Alfred nuzzled the curve of his neck and his nimble fingers traced Matthew's abs and ventured lower to toy with the soft golden trail of hair that began around his belly button.

"So fucking gorgeous."

Next he stripped him of his pajama pants and boxers and slipped off Matthew's socks, laying kisses all along his legs from his inner thigh to his ankles as he did so. All Matthew could do was stroke himself and watch Alfred intently as his brother reverently caressed his legs. Alfred began his kisses in reverse leading back up to the soft flesh of Matthew's inner thigh where he nuzzled and sucked and licked causing Matthew to arch and thrust up into his own hand, keening Alfred's name as he did so. When Alfred began to cup Matthew's balls, sucking and licking and stopping only to murmur how badly he wanted Matthew, to bury himself inside of him, that was Matthew's breaking point. He wanted Alfred and he wanted him now.

"Lube." He choked unable to stop touching himself or to tear his eyes away from Alfred's broad shoulders, golden tan and muscular chest. "In the bedside table."

It was Alfred's boyish grin as he pulled away to retrieve it, his enthusiasm, his sky blue eyes that had darkened with lust, It was all these things that made up the expression on Alfred's face that told Matthew that right now he was his entire world and that intensity, that attention, was irresistible to Matthew.

He had never felt less invisible. There was no way he could ever feel forgettable when Alfred looked at him like that.

All the thoughts that Matthew was having about Alfred's fit, beautiful body Alfred was busy vocalizing in regards to Matthew's own.

"Baby have I ever told you how much I love hockey?" Alfred asked as he let his eyes rake over Matthew's athletic form. "Because right now it's my favorite sport."

Matthew laughed at that while Alfred slicked his fingers with lube and continued to run off at the mouth on everything from Matthew's pale skin, to his soft voice, to his blue eyes that looked so like Alfred's own but were so impossibly different with Matthew's soul shining through.

Matthew may have been embarrassed by it but his love for the compliments showed in his soft whimpers and moans and the way he relaxed around Alfred's fingers when the other nation began to insert them.

Between hurried kisses, whispers of affection, and Alfred's teasing fingers it wasn't long before Matthew was thrusting down onto them and eagerly spreading his legs wider.

Alfred knew when he'd found Matthew's prostate by the strangled cry that escaped his throat and the trembling of his legs and the way he seemed to spasm on his probing fingers.

Matthew, panting, met his eyes "_Al..._now, please, I want you."

Alfred felt his heart rate quicken at Matthew's words and a welcome heat travel through out his entire body. He slicked his cock with lube, watching Matthew pumping himself underneath him with wide, excited eyes.

"Fuck. I can't believe we're about to do this. Matt do you have any idea how long I've wanted to be inside you?"

"Come on then, eh, let's do this." Matthew teased, smiling and rocking against him as Alfred poised himself at his entrance.

Alfred slid in with a groan, his eyes closed involuntarily and he shuddered. He began thrusting almost immediately, unable to control himself. Luckily Matthew was equally undone, his body completely relaxed and aching for Alfred's thrust.

Alfred had lifted both of Matthew's legs over his shoulders and leaned over him bringing them almost chest to chest and thrusting as deeply and quickly as he could. He held Matthew securely against him and Matthew happily melted against the arms that held him.

There was no room for reflection, only feeling and broken sentences and half-formed proclamations of love.

"Al I..oh..fuck...I love you!" Matthew stuttered as he came hard, shooting up against Alfred's stomach and falling down against his own.

Alfred moaned at the feeling of Matthew's seed between them, the warmth of it and the sight of his beloved northern brother flushed pink and spent from his pleasure.

He said nothing as he came, only pushed himself as far and as hard into Matthew as could, hell bent on spilling himself as deeply inside of his lover as possible.

Matthew whimpered as he felt Alfred stiffen and release himself inside of him in rough, shuddering bursts. No matter how many times the experience was repeated in future, he would never forget tonight, the first time he felt the heat of Alfred's seed pooling inside of him.

"ah, M-mattie, I love you too." Alfred finally replied as he pulled out.

He leaned forward to kiss Matthew lightly on the lips.

"Should I get a wash cloth?"

Matthew shook his head. "Fuck it. Let's use the sheets. We can clean up tomorrow morning."

Alfred smiled and kissed his cheek. "You're adorable when you're lazy. You should do it more often."

Matthew only snorted in response and curled into Alfred's offered arms.

The contented silence of their afterglow was broken only when the guilt that had wormed it's way back into Matthew's stomach made him speak up again. "I'm sorry I hurt you Al. So sorry."

"Mmm." Alfred hummed into Matt's hair as he drew him tight and tucked him under his chin. "Ditto."

Alfred would've felt silly to confess all the things he was feeling for Matthew at the moment. He couldn't bear to tell him just how much he meant to him, how much he was his northern star, but as they fell asleep in each other's arms he hoped Matthew understood.


	23. Soixante neuf

**A/N: As always a big thank you for the reviews! Also, I have an apology, I really have not been editing this thing properly. I found countless errors while reviewing the story this past week (still working on it) & I just want to let you know I won't be so lazy with my future stories. I have a lot of stylistic & grammatical issues I legitimately struggle with (my sentences can be too wordy, redundancy, sometimes I shift tenses without noticing them, etc) and that alone is enough to be concerned with without leaving in errors I damn well know how to fix. There were _so_ many sentence fragments _oh my god_ what was I thinking? **

**Moving on, this is basically the last chapter of Kryptonite though I will be posting an epilogue after this. Oh and yes, fried coke exists. Google it. **

**Shameless plug for my new story (skip if not interested):**

**Title: The Rival North**

**Pairing: Canada/America **

**Rating: M**

**Summary: It's 1963 at the height of the Cold War. Matthew and Alfred have been in a secret relationship for a few decades. When Ivan kidnaps his lover it falls to Matthew to infiltrate enemy territory and rescue Alfred **

…

**TRN is a lot of action, drama, espionage, magic, twin ESP, etc. I took all the darkness I kept thinking I was going to work into this story and put it there. This plot bunny came to me when two things collided. Those two things being that I love me some BAMF!Canada and I've been researching the Cold War for an original fic. One day I was thinking "Oh I want to write a Cold War fic but I don't want to write RusAme..." while simultaneously reading about the Canadian Caper (look it up if you don't know what it is) and thinking "Oh Canada you're such a badass motherfuck, I love you so, why don't more people write you being a BAMF?" and that is how the idea to write a Cold War fic involving Matthew rescuing Alfred came to pass. The first two chapters are up now and you can access them through my profile page. **

**Chapter 23: Soixante-neuf **

For once Alfred woke up before Matthew. He was reluctant to leave the warmth of the blankets and Matthew's arms but he managed to pull himself away without waking his lover. He shivered as his feet made contact with the cold hardwood floor and he quickly scurried over to Matthew's side of the bed to steal his house shoes. Matthew always had the best slippers. They were soft, fluffy, and bright red. It was like walking on pillows. He had rushed up here without packing anything so he was currently dressed in a pair of Matthew's warm flannel pajamas. Even though Al wasn't a morning person the combination of a night full of make up sex and his boyfriend's fantastic smelling pjs was enough to have him smiling as he made his way towards the kitchen.

He was determined to show Matt that he'd meant what he said. He wasn't just going to sit around taking him for granted and expecting him to always meet his needs and he trusted that Matthew would hold up his end and treat him with more consideration from now on too and not internalize so much.

In light of this he'd made a decision.

He could make his own chocolate chip Mickey Mouse pancakes. He didn't need to wait around for Matthew to service him, he could do it himself, and they'd be delicious. Matthew would be so surprised too when Alfred woke him up with breakfast in bed!

Alfred hummed happily to himself as he moseyed around the kitchen searching for ingredients.

"Pancakes...right...what goes into pancakes?" He asked himself once he realized Matthew didn't keep Bisquick on hand.

"Flour, obviously, and something to make them rise so...baking soda?"

He found them both in Matthew's pantry and set them out on the counter. He tried to remember what all Matthew used when he cooked.

He settled on eggs, sugar, butter, milk, and of course, chocolate chips.

He figured measurements were for chumps so he began to mix the ingredients together eyeballing them for what seemed like the right consistency. When he had a fairly homogenous mixture he poured a copious amount of oil in the skillet and started to heat it on the stove.

He found a spatula and waited for the oil to start to pop before doling out large globs of the mixture into the skillet.

Things seemed to go wrong almost instantaneously. First was the sudden hiss of the mixture burning and the smoke that billowed up out of the pan making Alfred wonder if maybe the heat didn't need to be _quite that high_. Second was the way the pancake mixture seemed to bubble over and grow to three or four times it's size and start to spill out of the pan and onto the stove where it burned and added to the smoke problem. That was probably due to the multiple tablespoons of baking soda he'd used.

"Fuck!" Alfred swore turning off the stove and trying to scoop up the charred bits of pancake batter before the smoke reached the critical point where...

_**Beep! Beep! Beep! Beeeeeep! Beep!**_

The smoke alarm started to go off.

Not far away in his bedroom Matthew awoke with a sudden jolt. His mind worked quickly through his panic and disorientation.

_'Okay the smoke alarm is going off...Alfred's not in bed...The Kitchen!...augh why did I sleep naked? Fuck! Where are my house slippers?'_

He stumbled out of bed, shivering at the sudden loss of warmth. He grabbed the bathrobe he had hanging on the back of his bedroom door as he ran down the hallway towards the kitchen. He could see smoke billowing down the hallway and hear Alfred swearing and the sound of him running into things as he rushed around trying to clean up the mess and put out the fire that had started when too much batter had spilled over onto the stove.

"Alfred! What the hell, eh?" Matthew demanded as he coughed through the smoke to turn on the oven vent and open the kitchen window. It was freezing outside but he didn't have much choice.

"Oh hey Mattie! Good morning!" Alfred offered him a lopsided apologetic grin. He was currently trying to scrape _something,_ Matthew wasn't sure what, out of the skillet. The whole room smelt like burnt chocolate.

That's when Matthew noticed the bowl of unused batter sitting on the counter.

"Al, were you trying to make pancakes? That's so...so..." He shook his head.

"Ridiculous?" Alfred offered with a sigh. "Stupid?"

"Adorable." Matthew finished with a smile and went to hug him. "But if you wanted pancakes why didn't you ask me? You always ask me."

"I guess because I always ask you?" Alfred leaned into the hug and placed a kiss on Matthew's neck which was currently covered in bruises and bite marks from last night's lovemaking.

"I don't mind." Matt replied leaving a kiss on Alfred's forehead. "I like making you pancakes, y'know? Makes me feel needed I suppose."

"That's great and all." Alfred shivered against Matthew's chest. "But can you close that fucking window? You're giving Florida a cold front."

Matthew laughed and went to shut the window. "How do you think I feel? Stole my slippers I see."

Alfred shuffled his feet. "Yeah well the original plan didn't involve you getting out of bed so I didn't think you'd mind."

"You are up surprisingly early." Matthew commented and motioned for Alfred to come help him scrub the soot off the stove.

"I guess somebody really perked me up last night." Alfred squeezed Matthew's ass affectionately before grabbing a rag and helping him clean.

The cleaning was done quickly and Matthew was faced with the question of what to do with Alfred's giant bowl of runny batter.

"What measurements did you use?" Matthew asked tasting the batter and trying to determine whether or not it was salvageable. Alfred's laugh was the only response Matthew needed. "Right. Silly question."

The batter was runny and far too sweet. It would be just like Al to overload the sugar and skimp on the flour.

"It kind of...exploded." Alfred warned him and Matthew laughed. "Okay too much baking soda, eh, I can fix that. I'll just have to fix the ratio. I think we're going to have a _lot _of pancakes."

"Awesome!" Alfred was genuinely enthused and perched himself on his usual spot on the the counter to watch Matthew work. "Oh!" He slapped his forehead. "Here take your slippers." He passed them off to Matthew before curling his feet up under his legs.

Matthew smiled. "Ah, you warmed them up for me."

Matthew heated up the recently cleaned skillet and sat to work. He toyed with the batter and tried making small experimental pancakes every time he adjusted the recipe, waiting until he had it just right.

Alfred was more than happy to eat the reject pancakes while waiting for Matthew to be satisfied.

Finally the Canadian made a small noise of happiness as he watched his latest attempt fluff up perfectly. "Got it!" He grinned.

"Sweet!" Alfred chimed in and tugged on the sleeve of Matthew's bathrobe for attention. "You're going to make them look like Mickey Mouse, right? Because I was gonna make them look like Mickey Mouse."

Matthew placed a soft kiss on Alfred's lips. "Of course love, if you want Mickey Mouse you can have Mickey Mouse."

"Yes!" Alfred fist pumped with glee. _'I knew I'd get those Mickey Mouse pancakes. I knew it!'_

It took almost a half hour to use up all the pancake batter. Alfred kept stealing and eating the pancakes as soon as Matthew was finished with them, however, so by the time he was done there was only a reasonable serving for each of them instead of the mound he'd expected sometimes It was convenient for Alfred to be a bottomless pit.

"Why do we ever eat regular pancakes?" Alfred asked as he cut into one chocolate studded ear.

"Because you can't have chocolate for breakfast everyday." Matthew smiled.

"The hell you can't." Alfred scoffed. "I'm a full grown country I'll do whatever the hell I want."

Matthew took a sip of his orange juice. "Yeah but that's why you run so high and then crash so hard. You know that, right?"

"Crash?" Alfred scoffed. "Like when?"

"I've seen you sleep like the dead," Matthew reminded him. "and drool all over your pillow too."

"Creeper," Alfred kicked him lightly under the table. "What've you been doing sneaking around while I'm so unconscious, huh?"

"You'll never know." Matthew dead panned while pouring more syrup on his pancakes. Personally, he preferred his plain but Alfred was always demanding different additions like blueberries, chocolate chips, pecans, and one time he'd even asked for skittles in his pancakes. Matthew had to draw the line there.

The things his brother came up with to eat, honestly.

Alfred had been excited for weeks when he discovered how to fry Coca Cola. It was endearing, really, even if it was a bit worrisome.

When they'd finished Matthew collected the dishes to clean while Alfred lay back in his chair looking doped up and happy. "I'm full." He stated as if it was some kind of serious accomplishment. Which Matthew supposed it was considering how Alfred always seemed to be hungry.

"I'm happy for you." Matthew laughed. Alfred let his head roll to the side and watched Matthew wash the dishes. "You spoil me." He smiled. Nothing felt as good as a belly full of Pancakes. All he wanted to do was curl up on the couch and sleep next to Matthew.

"All I did was make you breakfast." Matthew shrugged. "that hardly counts as spoiling."

"Yeah," Alfred argued. "but there was a lot of it! And it was really_ good._"

"I'm glad you liked it." Matthew dried his hands and returned to the table to stand next to Alfred.

"How about we go watch the election coverage, eh? You must be interested."

"Bah!" Alfred pouted. "Fuck them both."

"Ah come on," Matthew poked Alfred lightly in the stomach. "I know you care."

"Mmmph." Alfred groaned. "Don't wanna move."

"It's like 3 steps to the living room." Matthew quirked an eyebrow.

"Dun' wanna." Alfred rolled over slightly in the kitchen chair and began to fall asleep.

"Hey!" Matthew protested. "That's not even comfortable. You can't sleep there!"

"I can sleep _anywhere_." Alfred protested.

"Don't make me carry you." Matthew pleaded. "You're heavy."

"I ain't heavy." Alfred yawned, suppressing a giggle "I'm your brother."

"Al, that reference ceased to be culturally relevant after 1979."

Alfred only shrugged and closed his eyes.

"Fine!" Matthew sighed and reached down to scoop Alfred into his arms. "You're so difficult."

Alfred laughed and let Matthew carry him to the couch. He flipped on the news while Matthew went to get a blanket. They curled up on the couch together and watched the slow process of each state reporting in it's vote for President. They made a game of it where Matthew would guess which way they would go and Alfred would tell him if he was right or wrong before the votes were actually reported. Alfred was inevitably right with every prediction. Matthew was able to guess most of them except for a few of the swing states.

Time dragged on and Matthew would occasionally disentangle himself from Alfred in order to fetch them snacks from the kitchen.

"Do you have a preference?" Matthew asked. "About your boss?"

Alfred shrugged and took a handful of the popcorn Matthew had brought him. "Doesn't matter. They'll keep the incumbent anyway. They almost _always_ keep the incumbent. Four years from now, then that'll be an interesting election."

He was right of course. They'd passed the day and into the night doing nothing but lazing around on the couch alternating between election coverage and news about the storm clean-up. They did nothing but sit in silence watching the TV, occasionally stopping to crack jokes or to kiss. Alfred lay between Matthew's legs while his northern twin sat propped up against the arm of the sofa with one arm around Alfred and one securing the popcorn bowl.

"Won't they miss you at the re-election party?" Matthew asked, shutting off the television after the final results were announced.

"I don't care." Alfred pushed back against Matthew's chest. "I'd rather be here with you."

Matthew smiled and buried his head in Alfred's hair. "That's nice."

"I guess you have to get back to Ottawa now that the roads are cleared."

"Mmm." Matthew nodded. "but they won't miss me for just one more day. Priorities, eh?"

"Right bro," Alfred agreed. "Besides you can just send your bear in your place. I bet he'd be just as effective."

"Shut up!" Matthew frowned. "I thought we were having a moment."

Alfred laughed. "Dude we don't have _moments._ Moments are what France and England have after they've gotten all melodramatic and Artie's tried to push Francis off the cliffs of Dover or something like that."

Matthew scoffed. "As if you have any room to talk!"

"Are you calling me dramatic?" Alfred asked around a mouth full of popcorn.

"Yes." Matthew conceded. "Besides, what if I want to have moments?"

"Oh well, if you want I guess I could arrange a 100 years war. Then we could have a dysfunctional, passionate relationship and try to push each other over Niagra falls every Saturday I suppose."

Matthew smacked him playfully on the back of the head. "I meant nice moments, not soap opera moments, and you know it."

"Speaking of soap operas," Alfred mused. "I should really call and let Francis know I got in your pants."

"Alfred," Matthew whined. "Don't!"

"That is one good thing about keeping the incumbent." Alfred swiveled around in Matthew's lap until he was facing him. "I won't have to brief my new boss on Project Seduce Canada...which I guess is now Project continue to Seduce Canada...we can just pick up where we left off."

Matthew was mortified. "You haven't! Tell me you haven't been talking about our uh, our 'relations' to your boss!"

Alfred shrugged. "I had to have a reason for taking all that time off work, didn't I?"

"What if the Prime Minister finds out?" Matthew exclaimed. "I don't want my personal business turned into office gossip! Not to mention he'll blame me every time negotiations don't go our way, not that he doesn't already do that, but..."

Alfred quieted him with a kiss. "Don't be silly dude. Those old fogeys would be too embarrassed to talk about it and even if they did they'd probably just be like _'teenagers!_'."

Matthew laughed. "That's something that never ceases to amuse me how you're listed as 19 on all your human IDs. You can't even legally drink in your own country."

Alfred snorted. "Whatever. Let them try to stop me. I'm centuries old I'm not taking their shit."

Alfred stretched. "Mattie, we've been cooped up all day. Let's go outside and have some fun."

Matthew looked at him quizzically. "What could we possibly do?"

"Snowball fight!" Alfred bounced on his lap.

"But it's getting dark out."

"That only makes it more challenging." Alfred shrugged.

"But you hate the cold!" Matthew argued.

"True," Alfred tugged lightly on Matthew's shirt. "but we could make it interesting."

Matthew perked up at that. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Winner picks where we go for Christmas."

"We're going somewhere for Christmas, are we?" Matthew asked. "You mean beyond the usual question of whether or not I'm heading south or you're coming up north?"

"Yeah," Alfred grinned. "Let's do something fun this year. It's going to be our first Christmas as a couple."

"And I suppose whoever surrenders first is the loser?" Matthew mused.

Alfred nodded.

"Okay but if I agree, where exactly did you have in mind to go?"

"Somewhere warm and fun." Alfred replied. "Like Disney World in Florida."

"But it's Christmas!" Matthew protested. "You can't have Christmas without snow!"

Alfred shrugged. "Not true. You can have Christmas anywhere."

"Well, realistically, yes, I know that." Matthew shook his head. "Fine but if I win we're having a proper white Christmas and I'm taking you skiing and you can't just sit in the lodge drinking hot cocoa this time."

Alfred offered him his hand to shake. "You're on!"

They bundled up and headed outside into the woods around the cabin. They counted off 50 paces and then synchronized watches to give each other one minute exactly to amass as many snowballs as possible. As soon as they each heard the timer on their watches go off the game was on.

Snowballs whizzed between trees in the darkness as the brother's navigated by sound alone while their eyes strained in the darkness.

Matthew felt a mound of dirty snow collide with the side of his face and heard Alfred's laugh ring out in the night. He was close. Matthew could hear his heavy footfalls snapping twigs as he retreated and Matthew set off in pursuit.

Alfred may have been faster but he was at a disadvantage while they were fighting on Matthew's turf.

Suddenly Matt had an idea. He ducked behind the nearest tree and froze. It took Alfred a moment to register that he was no longer being chased. He held his pile of snowballs against his chest and came to a sudden halt. He couldn't hear Matt at all. No footsteps, no labored breathing from his run, nothing.

"Mattie?" He called suddenly worried and never thinking for a moment that it might be an ambush. "Hey! Matt! You okay?" He began back tracking searching through the trees. What if, what if something had happened to Matthew? Suddenly all the shadows in the forest started to seem like phantoms and the creaking of tree branches like ghostly moans. What if ghosts had gotten Matthew? How would he save him?

Matthew knew when Alfred was in reach. He held perfectly still and it was almost as if his southern brother looked right through him as he searched.

As soon as Alfred walked into his line of sight, the Canadian let out a sudden guttural battle cry and toppled him into the snow.

Alfred went face first into the snow and began to struggle under Matthew's hold. Before he could throw him off however, Matthew leaned close to Alfred's ear and in his raspiest voice whispered.

"_I am the spirit of the forest. You have angered me with your childish games. I have come to drag you into the otherworld._"

Alfred screamed. "Ghosts! Ghosts! Leave me alone, leave me alone, I'll do anything!"

"Good," Matthew chuckled returning to his normal voice and moving off Alfred. "I guess that means you give up?"

"Matthew?" Alfred asked weakly as he pulled himself up to sit in the snow. "I can't believe you..._that's so mean_ Mattie!"

Matthew just shrugged and slumped against a tree. "All's fair in love and war, eh? Doubly so when it's both."

"Fine." Alfred pouted. "We'll do your stupid Ski thing but you fight dirty!"

Matthew reached out an arm and pulled Alfred against him. "And we'll go to Disney World for New Years."

Alfred perked up at the compromise. "Sweet. I am gonna eat so many funnel cakes."

Matthew pulled down Alfred's scarf to lay kisses along his neck and moved his ear muff aside to nibble on his sensitive lobe.

"Come on Alfie," He suggested pulling Alfred to his feet. "Let's go have a hot bath. How's that sound?"

"Fuck yeah! That's awesome!" Alfred replied looping an arm around Matthew's waist and following him back to the cabin.

Alfred shed his clothes in the bedroom floor while Matthew drew their bath water. He had a tub with jets that was big enough for two. Alfred didn't bother to think about why. He didn't want too. All he needed to know was that Matthew was his now and if anyone tried taking him from him there'd be hell to pay. Apart from that jealousy was a waste of time and energy that could be better spent loving Matt.

He wandered down the hall to find Matthew stripping in the bathroom.

He let his hands wander over his twin's pale flesh and he lay kisses on his bare shoulders while Matthew slipped out of his pants.

There was nothing quite as good as slipping into warm bath water while your flesh was still tingling with cold from outside.

Matthew and Alfred reclined at opposite ends of the tub, their legs entwined, and each let out a relieved sigh as the heat of the water and the stream of the jets worked to relax sore muscles, wash away worries, and chase the cold from their bones.

"You know this is all I'm going to do on that Ski trip." Alfred teased. "Hot tub. All day long."

Matthew smiled. "Oh ha, I know you like Skiing don't deny it."

Alfred shrugged. "Okay but I do like cocoa and hot tubs better and seeing you in tight little ski pants."

Matthew blushed. "Oh shut up. I guess you're pretty cute when you get all excited about the rides at Disney, too."

"I'm not cute, I'm _enthusiastic_." Alfred protested.

Matthew leaned forward to press his lips lightly against Alfred's own. "Yeah well, your enthusiasm is cute then." He reached for a bottle of his shampoo and motioned for Alfred to turn around.

"Let me wash your hair. You've got bits of twig and sludge in it."

"I wouldn't if you weren't a dirty cheater." Alfred complained but complied with Matthew's request.

Matthew slowly lowered Alfred's head until his hair was completely submerged in the hot water.

He worked his fingers through tangled golden strands before coating his hand in shampoo and beginning to scrub them clean.

Alfred sighed and relaxed as Matthew massaged his scalp. He let his feet hang out the side of the tub and let his elbows rest on Matthew's thighs.

It wasn't long before he felt a familiar poking against his lower back. "_Nice_ Mattie." He teased, tilting his head back and looking up with a grin.

Matthew huffed and averted his eyes. He couldn't help it with Alfred spread out like that in front of him. His face flushed from the heat, his chest speckled with droplets of water, his legs spread haphazardly and carelessly thrust out of the tub.

"I can't help it." He defended while he rinsed Alfred's hair. Alfred aggravated the situation by pushing himself back and rubbing against Matthew's erection.

He reached for a bar of soap and offered it to Matthew. "Why don't you wash the rest of me now too?"

Matthew wordlessly accepted the soap and began to trace circles around Alfred's shoulders and long graceful swoops down his arms. Alfred lay contentedly against Matthew's chest while his brother scrubbed every inch of him. Occasionally he would carefully readjust to allow Matthew to reach another part of him. By the time Matthew began to massage the soap against Alfred's sensitive inner thighs Alfred was fully hard and craving more of Matthew's touch.

Alfred turned around, propping himself up on his knees in the bath and looping his arms around Matthew's neck, he kissed Matthew parting his lips easily with his eager tongue.

"Let me take care of you now, hmm?" Alfred proposed, his blue eyes hazy with lust.

"Alright." Matthew breathed softly excited to feel Alfred's hands on him. Alfred had always been the impatient one, the over eager, too enthusiastic one. He turned Matthew around and pulled him into his lap gracelessly but Matthew didn't complain. Alfred's hands were beloved even when they were bruising. The hands that had been so rough when dragging him against him, however, turned out to be very gentle when they began to massage the shampoo into his scalp. Alfred's fingertips relaxed him with soft, circular motions and he worked the tangles from Matthew's lightly curling hair with tenderness not willing to cause Matthew the slightest discomfort.

He lovingly coated Matthew's body with soap, paying particular attention to the areas where he knew Matthew was sensitive.

When they were both satisfactorily clean, and the heat was starting to go to their heads, and their fingertips to prune, Alfred wrapped his hand tightly around Matthew's shaft and whispered in his ear.

"Let's go take care of this, hmm?"

Matthew turned his head to the side and nipped at Alfred's neck. "Absolutely."

Matthew drained the tub while Alfred toweled himself off. He reclined against the sink letting his eyes wander over Matthew's body while his paler skinned twin did the same.

Alfred grasped Matthew by the hips and pulled him close against him penetrating him effortlessly with his tongue and working to coax breathless noises of pleasure from his brother with every stroke of sensitive muscle against sensitive muscle.

Soft lips were locked against soft lips and warmth traveled between their bodies from this simple touch.

Alfred was normally very passionate about his politics, his work, and his busy life back in D.C but in this moment he wanted nothing more to stay here with Matthew, hidden out in the woods, and never go home.

When their kiss broke Matthew nuzzled Alfred's neck and grasped him by the wrist. "Come on love, let's get to the bedroom, eh?"

Alfred followed him down the hallway without complaint watching the way Matthew's hips moved tormentingly as he walked.

They needed no words to negotiate what they wanted. The minute Matthew lay on his side Alfred knew what he had in mind. He looked at Matthew's ample cock and bit his bottom lip. He could feel himself already beginning to salivate at the thought of how it felt so heavy against his tongue and the way Matthew moaned when he teased the tip.

He lay on the bed, kissing Matthew for just a little longer before he lay on his side as well, his head in the opposite direction, and slipped Matthew's warm erection into his mouth as Matthew, at the other end, did the same.

Matthew was able to straighten his throat and slip Alfred deep inside, loving the moan he could feel reverberating around his shaft when he did so, and used his hands to massage Alfred's balls and stroke his inner thighs while he set a rhythm with his mouth and licked eagerly up and down Alfred's length.

It was a little harder for Alfred at first and he choked while positioning his brother's large cock at the entrance of his throat. Matthew, for his part, tried unsuccessfully to pretend the feeling of Alfred's throat spasming around his length wasn't absolutely intoxicating. Alfred could tell however since he could feel Matthew's eager whimpers against his own cock and feel the way Matthew's hips bucked uncontrollably forward. His eyes were watering and in spite of the choking he loved the sensation of Matthew filling his mouth. Never one to be outdone, Alfred soon managed to accommodate Matthew's girth and manage to breath before beginning a steady rhythm.

Alfred was ready to come all too soon but forced himself to hold it in until he felt Matthew's thrusts becoming erratic and his whimpers and moans increasing in intensity. Without a word passing between them they knew it was time and Alfred let himself go as Matthew came simultaneously into Alfred's mouth. They both swallowed eagerly before parting. Matthew collapsed backwards and Alfred crawled up and into his arms.

They kissed, each taking pleasure in the taste of their own seed on the other's lips.

"I love you." Alfred whispered licking a stray drop of come from the side of Matthew's mouth.

"I love you too." His Canadian replied.


	24. Epilogue

**A/N: If you haven't seen my apologies on my profile page or tumblr let me just say again I'm sorry this update is so late. It's just a short little epilogue, I know, but it really was just a crazy week between moving states, getting sick, traveling back to my old state for a funeral, and having no internet in my new apartment until next week (Thanks to Ratsister for letting me mooch her wifi so I could post this tonight!) **

**So anyway, this is the final chapter! There is a lot I wish I would've done differently (I would've edited better as I went along, I would've scaled back some of Alfred's comedic antics out of consideration for his character, I would've phrased some of Matthew's sentiments differently to make his feelings for Al more clear, etc) but over all I'm pleased with it for a first attempt. Thank you to everyone who has read through this to the end! I know it has its flaws but if you enjoyed yourself and consider having read this time well spent then I will consider it a success. Thank you, thank you, thank you! **

**Chapter 24: Epilogue**

The Christmas ski trip was a success. Granted, it took a few days for Matthew to convince Alfred that winter was useful for more than hibernating but eventually Alfred's natural love for the athletic won out over his hatred of the season and they had fun hitting the slopes. Somewhere between the relaxing hot cocoa and the adrenaline fueled races down the mountain the stress of the past months was washed away.

Matthew hadn't thought he would enjoy New Year's at Disney World. His mind had been full of images of long, twisting lines and hours spent waiting for rides that would be over too quickly. In reality, however, he'd really enjoyed himself. The warmer weather in Florida was a nice break from the harsher conditions up north. He loved the fireworks and the day trip he and Alfred had taken to the ocean. Their hotel room was lavish and Alfred had made a habit of going out to forage for odd sweets and snacks to bring back to Matthew when his brother was resting. Alfred's enthusiasm was infectious and had Matthew letting loose in ways he hadn't expected.

The holidays illuminated all the beautiful things they'd forgotten about each other. Matthew relaxed Alfred by reminding him to take things slower sometimes, to get out and enjoy nature and that winter wasn't such a bad season after all. Alfred brought Matthew to life reminding him not to worry so much, to lose his composure a little, and to have fun more readily.

Of course, the holidays had to end and with the return of real life came stress, dysfunction, and discord but the memory of their previous fight remained fresh in their minds and they were careful not to let history repeat itself. Alfred was still as dedicated to his work as always but remembered to put aside time for Matthew and to pay attention to his needs. Matthew, in turn, remembered not to internalize his issues and tried not to lash out when angry. They still fought. They would always fight, but they never let themselves lose sight of the fact that they loved one another even in their most heated arguments and that made all the difference.

They set a visitation schedule that alternated weekends in Ottawa and Washington. Matthew would make pancakes in the morning and Alfred often took them out in the evening. The only one who wasn't pleased with Alfred's frequent visits was Kumajiro who had begrudgingly taken to sleeping on the couch because, according to him, Alfred kicked in his sleep. He had, however, been placated by Alfred's peace offering of fish in exchange for giving up his spot at the foot of the bed a few nights a week.

Tony had added "Fucking Canuck" to his expansive English vocabulary but whether or not he meant this as a term of endearment or otherwise remained to be determined.

One year had passed this way in relative peace and routine.

Alfred and Matthew had decided to celebrate their second Christmas as a couple quietly at home in Alfred's D.C apartment overlooking the Jefferson Memorial. Alfred had finally gotten his hands on the coveted jersey and as Matthew watched him in it, reaching up on tip toes to put the star on top of the rather large tree he'd insisted on buying, he realized the sight really was gratifying.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist kissing him softly on the neck.

Alfred squirmed in his arms and laughed. "That tickles, dammit! You're getting all stubbly like Francis!"

Matthew shrugged. "It's Christmas. Can't a man skip a shave every now and again?"

Alfred sniffed the air. "If that's a cake I smell baking then you can do whatever you want."

"_Chocolate._" Matthew whispered and Alfred let out a yelp and turned in his arms to kiss him.

The way to a man's heart might not always have been his stomach but for Alfred it was very true.

The living room of Alfred's apartment in which they stood was spacious. Unmarred hard wood floors stretched from wall to wall and the giant Christmas tree was set up next to the broad, clear windows that overlooked the monument. All the lights of the city were aglow as it was approaching midnight on Christmas eve. The lights inside rivaled the lights outside as the lovers stood back to admire their handiwork. Over the past few hours they'd decorated the gigantic fir with a string of electric lights and ornaments they'd both collected over the years. Each ornament was unique. Many of them were priceless antiques that the brothers had managed to keep safe in their respective storage rooms over the decades that slowly turned into centuries.

Alfred's eyes fell upon one familiar ornament and for the moment he forgot the chocolate cake baking in the oven. "You remember this Mattie?" His fingers traced the familiar rough edges of the wooden bear. The craftsmanship was shoddy. Anyone could've guessed that it was made by a child. Few, and probably none who weren't currently in the room, could've guessed that it was carved by a young country with a pair of dust covered cowboy boots and a pocket knife who was just starting to expand westward and extend his land as he grew into maturity.

Matthew chuckled and let his own fingertips brush across the sharp curves of the bear and come to rest on top of Alfred's own. "Expertly carved, honey, expertly carved." Matthew teased, his breath tingling Alfred's ear as he stood so close behind him.

"Shut up." Alfred didn't even blush, just smiled a little lopsided smile. "I can wittle amazingly now!"

Matthew didn't reply, he just easily pulled them out of their nostalgia and back into the present by wordlessly taking Alfred's hand and dragging him towards the kitchen.

"Chocolate cake, chocolate cake, chocolate fucking cake!" Alfred chanted as he followed Matthew.

"Less than 5 minutes and it should be done." Matthew commented. "Will you help me ice it?"

"Pfft." Alfred snorted. "Give me 5 minutes with the icing and there won't be any left."

"Hey! I made that icing from scratch!"

Matthew's protest only excited Alfred further. "Oh sweet! Seriously? Is it the kind you make with the melted chocolate and the butter?"

Matthew nodded and smiled. He loved having Alfred to cook for. There was something really fulfilling about having someone who appreciated his food so much. It made it all feel so much more worthwhile.

Alfred sat on the kitchen counter and Matthew leaned against it. Alfred alternated between playing with Matthew's fingers and twining them with his own, and staring wistfully at the timer.

When the timer finally went off Alfred huffed and whined at the meticulous way Matthew went about removing the cake from the pan, waiting for it to cool a little, and carefully icing each side.

"Dude, just throw some icing on top of it and let's eat!" There was a place for meticulous attention to detail, Alfred knew, and doing it at work was about as much as he could stand. He didn't know how Matthew could wait when a hot, fresh, delicious cake was at his immediate disposal.

"Hey, settle down, eh," Matthew laughed. "hold your horses cowboy."

Alfred's glare in return was fierce and brooding but he forced himself to wait patiently at the table and was rewarded with a large slice of chocolate cake perfectly iced and garnished with red berries and solid chocolate shavings.

"The way you put things together," Alfred mumbled around a forkful of moist chocolate cake "it's almost too pretty to eat. Almost."

"Thanks." Matt smiled and sat down with his own slice of cake. Alfred's kitchen table was small and set in a cozy nook just beside his kitchen. It was perfect for two people. It helped the brothers, whose jobs demanded they constantly be aware of and navigate the vastness of the world, to feel for a little while as if the world was small and focused on just the two of them.

Just as they were setting down their forks Mathew glanced up at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink. "It's midnight!" He grinned. "Merry Christmas!"

Alfred pouted. "Dammit. I wanted to be the first to say it!"

"Too bad!" Matthew teased as he stood to collect their plates and take them to the sink. "You want to pop open a bottle of wine?"

Alfred shrugged and smirked. "Hell why not. I've still got the bottle France gave me when I told him I'd successfully bagged you. It's been gathering dust."

"Vulgar!" Matthew tsk'd. "I can't believe you discussed our sex life with him. The man was like a father to me!"

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, well, what can you say bro? Our relationships are complicated."

The twins exchanged a pointed, meaningful look.

Matthew sighed. "I hate it when we go out and humans give us funny stares."

"Yeah," Alfred retrieved the corkscrew while Matthew fetched the bottle. "You remember that bartender in Vegas? I can't believe he asked me if you were my brother or my boyfriend and then clearly didn't care if the answer was both."

"Well, it is isn't it?" Matthew laughed.

Alfred blushed in return. "Yeah but it's not the fucking same! We're countries! Not that he_ knew_ that."

Matthew snickered and poured them two glasses of wine.

Matthew enjoyed the sweet, white dessert wine and began eyeballing the cake debating getting another slice. Alfred, for once, wasn't the one with food on his mind.

"It is technically Christmas morning." He informed Matthew. "Presents!"

"No," Matthew protested. "if we open them all now you'll just be disappointed when we wake up!"

His only response was a stubborn pout.

"Okay," Matt relented. "let's compromise. We can each open one tonight!"

"YES!" Alfred cheered and rushed around the bar and into the living room. He surveyed the pile of perfectly wrapped packages that bore his name. Matthew's presents had been wrapped with love but less finesse and bore creative wrapping papers such as Alfred's favorite strips from the Sunday comics.

"Which one should I pick?" Alfred asked as Matthew came to stand behind him. The Canadian lazily traced his fingers along the lettering on the back of the jersey Alfred was wearing. Yeah, he liked seeing him in it all right. He loved the way it fit his broad shouldered, strapping brother like a glove. He loved seeing his name on the back and he loved how he could catch Alfred sniffing the sleeve when he thought he wasn't looking.

Shopping for Alfred was always hard because he usually bought himself whatever he wanted. Japan kept him supplied with the latest games and technology and Alfred really had everything he could ever want or need. Still, Matt always tried his best to find things that would make him happy and would be useful or emotionally significant.

"I won't give you any hints! You have to pick for yourself!"

Alfred huffed but finally settled on a medium sized package wrapped in shiny red paper. He began to tear into it but Matthew stopped him. "Hey , wait! Let me pick and we'll open them together, okay?"

"Kay!" Alfred plopped onto the sofa to wait while Matthew chose.

Matthew picked the smallest and least assuming of his presents. It was small and square and wrapped in paper that Alfred had decorated himself in sharpie by drawing fighter jets and tiny little pilots with goggles three sizes too big.

He took his seat next to Alfred who ripped the paper off his gift and laughed happily at the sight of the electronic picture frame that Matthew had filled with fresh batteries and left on scrolling through hundreds of photos he'd uploaded from his computer showing scenes of their time together.

Matthew opened his gift and was surprised to find a velvet box containing a men's jewelry set. There was a set of white gold maple leaf cufflinks, a tie clip engraved with the inscription "From Sea to Sea"

and a pocket watch bearing the Canadian coat of arms.

"Alfred these are gorgeous!" Matthew gasped. "Where did you get these?"

"I had them made." Alfred smiled and scooted closer to Matthew. "Open the pocket watch."

There, engraved in tiny scrawling script, it said:

_Geography has made us neighbours. History has made us friends. Economics has made us partners. And necessity has made us allies. Those whom nature hath so joined together, let no man put asunder._

_~ John F. Kennedy_

"I remember that quote." Matthew smiled and squeezed Alfred's hand. "I always loved it."

"Me too." Alfred's eyes fell back to the picture frame showing scenes both old and new. "It's been a good year, Mattie, It's been a really good year. Why didn't we do this sooner?"

"I dunno," Matthew set his presents aside carefully and picked up their glasses. He handed Alfred his and offered a toast. "but let's be sure to make more years like this one in future, eh?"

"Hell yes!" Alfred replied.

Their glasses clinked and they sealed the pact with a kiss.


End file.
